


Humanity

by Download077



Series: Child of Jörmungandr [4]
Category: Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Comfort, Drama, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Headcanon influenced, Humor, Politics, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Download077/pseuds/Download077
Summary: Following the massacre at the Katze Plains, Momonga finds himself in a conundrum. One of which that has him before Holly's door late one evening. An inconceivable question with an answer that he can not seem to accept. She asked him what humanity meant to him. Little did he know that in search of a more gratifying response he would be left, quite literally, human.
Relationships: Ainz Ooal Gown | Momonga & Pandora's Actor, Ainz Ooal Gown | Momonga/Original Character(s), Ainz Ooal Gown | Momonga/Original Character(s) & Pandora's Actor, Pandora's Actor (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Child of Jörmungandr [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1275569
Comments: 55
Kudos: 82





	1. Antithesis

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse one 

\- Antithesis -

* * *

_She had asked him what humanity meant to him after he brought about the end of a war with a single blow._

_Fortunately, she was not coming from a place of judgement. Merely concern laced with curiosity._

_Only if but for a moment, Momonga's answer wore itself on her face in such a way that he was reminded of a heart now absent._

_The clock resting upon his office wall ticked with each passing second. He set his pen down. For a reason unbeknownst to him, Holly seemed to be holding her breath._

_“Quite frankly?” Momonga steepled his fingers. “Nothing.”_

_He stopped to observe her wilting posture. “Forgive me if that troubles you, Holly.”_

_Then she gave him the look._

_“I’m just scared for you.”_

_“Tell me, why is that?”_

_Holly's eyes met the ground as she gifted him a shrug of her shoulder. Yet, the crack in her voice is something he doubts he will ever be able to shake._

_“I don’t want to lose you to nothing.”_

* * *

Humanity.

Momonga turns to his hand, studying his many rings as he curls his fingers into a fist.

Nothing. Perhaps nothing was an unfair answer to an impossible question. What was he supposed to respond with? Did she expect for him to lie to her? 

No. The question was simply innocuous. 

Nevertheless, the entirety of the situation has seeded a rot into his spine that only seems to mature as the weeks pass. At first, it was more amusing than bothersome. Many a nights it has kept him entertained as he has been given a reason to weigh out the philosophical merits benefited to him as an undead.

Yet now...

Momonga ghosts his hand along the swirl of water gems peppering the door before him.

A pause.

...Should he be bothering her with this? What is it that he wants, anyhow?

Affirmation? A more satisfying conclusion? An answer?

Comfort?

Flecks of air distort around his guild ring as it buzzes with the intent of activation. Enough of this. [Greater Teleportation] shall take him back to his quarters where he can further dissect this...well. 

Whatever this is.

While drawing up the picture of his bedroom in his mind the door before him creaks open. A waterfall of curls tumble from around the corner of the door as Holly pokes her head out. Ah. What was it that she called that, again?

Bedhead?

“...Momonga?” Holly squints. “Ughhh...do you know what time it is?”

A wince tugs at the seam of his soul. It must be late. When was the last time he paid a clock any attention? Uwah, time has so little relevance when you don’t require rest…

“M-My apologies, I,” A bright piece of fabric lifts Momonga’s gaze to the top of Holly’s mess of hair. “Is that the nightcap from the Extinct Dreams event?”

Holly yanks the nightcap off and shoves it behind her back. “No.”

Damn her for being so endearing.

Silence.

“Hey big guy…are you okay?”

The honesty pours out of him before he cares to stop it. “I am admittedly not certain. Truth be told, I was hoping that you might be able to help me with that.”

Before she can answer he holds up a hand. The last thing he wants is to be a nuisance. 

“Allow me to leave you to rest, Holly. This can wait, I--”

“Stop it.”

“Come again?”

“You’re doing that thing,” Holly wrinkles her nose. “Ya know, that thing I hate. Where you bring up something and then try to back out of it.”

Is that truly a mannerism of his? “Understand that was not my intention, sincerely. Might I request a rain check?”

Holly groans. A halo of warm green light pours before him as she shoulders the rest of her door open. “Nope. You’re not getting away that easy.”

As expected. Momonga strokes the back of his neck while producing a weak chuckle. “No. No, it appears not.”

With a flick of her tail and a satisfied smirk, Holly retreats back into the confinements of her bedroom. Once inside, Momonga closes the door with a wave of his hand.

Pillows bounce from Holly’s bed as she throws her back into the comforter. The veil curtaining her canopy frame flutters in the disturbance.

Momonga glances towards the fireplace tucked in the corner breathing curls of emerald smoke. Nostalgia brushes his mind like a calm, ocean wave. “Remind me, when was the last time I paid your room a visit?” 

“I dunno. Come to think of it, most of the time we just talk about stuff in your office or the throne room.”

“Ah. Right.”

Bookshelves cluttered with Yggdrasil memorabilia pull his attention. Lore cards. Skull trophies from varying raid bosses. Roses encrusted with jewels. Coins. Vials of ethereal leech blood. 

So many books. Hah! Momonga hooks a finger tip upon one of particular interest and rocks it to and fro. Blue suede binding and pages bordered with gold. 

_Child of the world serpent_.

It was four and a half years ago that she skipped up to him with that book.

_“Can I put this in Asherbanahoozawhatsit?”_

_Momonga laughed. “Ashurbanipal. And yes. Yes, you may. Furthermore, see to it that you store your additional racial and job class novella down there. It has been far too long since Nazarick’s library has been gifted with something new.”_

_“Kay!”_

Peculiar. It feels like yesterday..

Momonga slides the book free and brings it into his hands. While fanning the pages, he asks, “May I have this?”

“Huh? Oh um, sure,” Holly pulls a pillow to her chest and holds it close. “I’ve got a bunch.”

He rumbles with a hum in appreciation. Most excellent. 

“....Momonga?”

“Hm?”

“What’s going on? You usually don’t get all sentimental unless something is really eating at you.”

The book claps shut. Perceptive. “Approximately three weeks ago you asked me a question that has been weighing heavy on my mind.”

“You uh...gotta be more specific. I ask a lot of things, ya know.”

Fair point. True, she does. Releasing a sigh, Momonga slips Holly’s novella into his inventory before resuming. “You questioned what humanity meant to me.”

“Oh. _Ohh_ ,” Realization dawns upon her face. Smoothing out the place beside her with a swipe of her tail, Holly asks, “Wanna take a seat?”

“No, but thank you. I would prefer to stand.”

Holly’s eyes narrow before her tail strikes the bed.

Ah, he should have known. That was a demand wearing the disguise of formality.

The bed groans with a creak as Momonga sinks into his seat beside Holly. It all comes to him entirely too soon as hesitation fogs his mind. What should he begin with? Better yet, how does he present his proposal? Uwah. Through all the conversations he has had with her in his head over this subject he can not seem to bring forth any of their points for reference.

He has nothing.

_“I’m just scared for you.”_

_“Tell me, why is that?”_

_“I don’t want to lose you to nothing.”_

Momonga dips his chin into the pocket formed by his hand. Irony. Irony is cruel, indeed.

The red glare cast from his eyes blush Holly’s cheeks as he gazes down towards her face. A weak smile tugs at her lips. Despite the circumstance, it amuses him how someone so small by comparison of his size can chill him quite literally to the bone. 

Why is this so difficult? Is it because of the pedestal she places him upon?

A tug of his robes. Holly drapes them over her lap while she glances away. “Ya know, you’re so used to solving everyone else's problems that you kinda forget about yourself.”

“It would be deceitful of me to disagree with you. Conversely, my matters are of little concern compared to those around me,” As a means of strengthening his resolve, Momonga squares his shoulders. “I understood this when I accepted my role as guild leader and subsequently, Lord Ainz.”

Holly releases a lengthy exhale. “I don’t wanna debate with you. And those? Those are debatin’ words.”

“Rest assured that I do not wish to argue with you, either.”

“...Can I maybe ask you to help me with something, instead?”

Momonga’s shoulders relax. This he can work with. “Certainly. Generally speaking, I am always happy to lend you my assistance should you need it. Now then, what seems to be the issue?”

“You ready? It’s a doozy,” A smirk takes Holly’s face. “Help me help you.”

...Damn. Stumbled right into that one. Momonga rumbles with a bitten back groan as he grapples with his discomfort. “Am I correct in the assumption that you won’t allow for me to back out of this?”

“Pretty much.”

Uwah. “Very well, then. To begin with, I,” A pause. Momonga’s voice hushes. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Just be blunt about it.”

Perhaps with a bit more bite than he anticipated, Momonga chews out his response. “Really now? That wasn’t blunt enough for you?” 

Tail curling around an ankle, Holly sends her stare to the ground. Her posture tightens considerably and it's as if she were wearing a corset and someone had just snuck up and yanked her laces taut. As a result, Momonga’s hand consumes his face. 

An exhale hisses from his nostrils. “Forgive my callousness, Holly. Surely you understand that this is not easy for me.”

“I know,” Holly whispers. Once more. But softer, like a flower’s sigh. “I know.”

His emotional suppressor forbids him from feeling anything more than a numb pang of guilt.

Momonga focuses his gaze upon Holly’s fireplace. Emerald sparks leap from a crumbling log while fire splashes forward.

This was clearly a mistake--

“I was worried. I was worried because what you did? That _changes_ you. I-I would know,” Holly’s brows furrow while she studies her palm. “So it scared me when you said nothing. It scared me because I knew you weren’t lying and I knew you were everything during that war and nothing afterwards.”

“You’re like that, ya know. Everything or nothing,” Holly’s voice pitches as her fingers curl into a fist. “Wha-What happens when everything becomes nothing?”

Momonga's hand consumes Holly’s knee. “Holly, about Baharuth--”

“This isn’t about me!” Holly grits her teeth. “This is about you!”

“Answer me this, then. When is it not about me, hm? Are you not aware of the mental gymnastics the guardians perform to appease me? Empires fear my name while Nazarick praises it from on high. As a result of this, perhaps I have grown tired of being the subject matter at hand.”

“You and I know all of that isn’t about you, though. It’s about the facade you created. And, I mean, you do a damn good job, better than I ever could have,” Momonga slides his hand from Holly’s knee as she hits him with a pained look. “I said I didn’t wanna argue with you.”

..and yet, here they are. Although absent a throat, his voice feels so incredibly dry. Hoarse. His skull slumps forward as he mutters, “I need for you to know that it was never my intention to trouble you.”

Momonga rises to his feet, choosing to ignore the eyes prying at him. He doesn’t have the answer she wants. Hah! He doesn’t have the answer he wants! He can’t. Not like this. Not when he is quite literally, dead.

“Goodnight, Holly,” Momonga breathes. “Should you care to continue this discussion in the morning, you will find me as per usual in my office.”

Would she find him rude if he simply activated his guild ring and stepped out through [Greater Teleportation]? Hm. Refusing to take any chances, Momonga advances towards the door. A pause finds itself into his actions however as Holly reaches over the foot of her bed and grabs his hand.

“Please don’t go,” No. Do not look back towards her--damn.

Not _those_ eyes. Uwah. The starry pajamas don’t exactly aid him in his ploy, either..

Momonga chuckles around a whimper. Shaking her away, he clasps his hand over his face as he sighs, “That is positively not fair.”

“Aww!” Holly squeals with a laugh. Revealing her nightcap, she giggles, “Will you stay if I put this back on?”

“...Perhaps.”

Flashing him a smile, Holly slaps the nightcap a top her head. Ah, most excellent. Simply adorable. How is he to leave now? 

Curse his weakness.

Holly’s expression bleeds into a frown. “I..I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

How odd. Why does she feel the need to offer an apology?

“Don’t be. Sincerely,” He lifts a hand in protest. “Setting aside that I disturbed you at this hour, I am the one at fault for bringing this before you unprepared.”

Holly crosses her arms over her chest, tail fumbling about for a pillow while she whispers, “I don’t get it. What about me says you have to have a conversation planned out?”

His world slips.

He doesn’t know.

On the outside, he views himself as a simple man. Prior to this new world he was a wage slave, after all. Predictably that tends to lend a sense of modesty to one's state of being. Yggdrasil, a weekend off, persimmons and soba noodles when he could afford them. If he was feeling particularly indulgent, tuna.

How he misses food.

Nevertheless, he has always seen himself as a simple man on the outside. It is the inside that remains an enigma. A labyrinth of a lifetime of events he does not care to reflect on at this moment.

He has made himself into a puzzle that not even he can solve.

..Yet for a reason unbeknownst to him, Holly still tries despite it all. 

Momonga slips a hand into his inventory and retrieves a prismatic octahedron. Sparkling clusters of arcane symbols carousel the wedge of glass. Wind chimes echo from the core where a tear of Titania drips towards the ceiling. 

Holly’s brows knit together, eyes blinking between the legendary item and Momonga. “...Antithesis? Why?”

Antithesis. An item he won from a PVP tournament during his later years in Yggdrasil. In a novice's hands, Antithesis was nothing more than a gag item. Something to fool a friend.

Albeit in the hands of a master? Hah! How he wishes he could have had this item in his glory days. 

Momonga clicks a finger tip against the crystal. Perhaps now it will prove it’s greatest use as of yet. “I will be forthright with you. For some time now it has been my motive to benefit from this. Whether it be fear of the unknown or indecision that has reserved me until this moment, I am not certain. In contrast, what I do know is that I do not want to be alone when applying this.”

With a press of her hands, Holly slides off of her bed. She assumes her place before him, face bathed red from his world item while she reaches for Antithesis. Lowering his hand, he sets the crystal in her open palms.

Holly rows her thumbs to brush against the sharp edges of Antithesis. Her brows remain tightly knit. “My question bugged you that bad?”

“Indeed. However, it is not the question in and of itself. More so my response. With this in mind, understand that I could not answer you fairly as an undead. Furthermore, I was unable to produce a satisfying answer to myself.”

Her eyes say more than her words ever could as he brings Antithesis back into his grasp. “By aid of this, I can settle both of our grievances.”

“Momonga,” Holly warns. “You don’t have to--”

“I am not above my own actions,” His robes spill along her arm as he clasps a hand on her shoulder. Is he absolutely certain this is what he wants? “Holly. I would ask a favor of you.”

Holly's eyes soften. “You already know my answer.”

So accommodating. More times than not, she has made him long for his mother. 

“Uhh," Holly gives Momonga a weak smile. "Do you know how it works?”

A fair observation. He hums in affirmation. “Mmm. In layman’s terms, it is similar to [Create Greater Item]. The trick however is that instead of bringing forth an object, you reanimate yourself.”

Holly purses her lips. He chuckles to himself. “Ah, right. I suppose it does help that I have an affinity for reanimation.”

“...Sooo how long does it last?”

“In Yggdrasil, Antithesis was allotted a maximum of three hours before vanishing. I would assume the same principles stand true here, as well.” 

“Oh. That’s not bad. For a second, I thought I was gonna need to get Pandora--”

“No. Heaven’s no, that won’t be necessary.” No. The last time he requested that Pandora’s Actor be his body double it took him _weeks_ to rid the guardians of their saluting. 

Uwah. Onto the topic at hand, all that remains is for him to envision a body. Hmm. Momonga taps Antithesis to life. While the crystal unfurls it’s sheets of glass to form a lotus blossom, the many arcane symbols once floating around the item drift to encircle him. 

Titania’s tear pulses. 

He quickly crosses off any of the guardians despite their aesthetic appearances. Holly dancing her eyebrows at him within his mind is enough as it is. Hmm. Gazef was a respectable man and rather good looking? Uwah, and then there’s him.

The last thing he wants is to look like himse--

Wind chimes. The last thing he hears are wind chimes as his robes and mantled pauldrons crash to the ground. 

* * *

"The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself."

𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓂 𝐹𝒶𝓊𝓁𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓇

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> If you have yet to read [ Child of Jörmungandr ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873440/chapters/39625050)some of this story may not make sense to you. I'm happy to answer any questions that you have if you have not read the story, however I highly encourage that you do so. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ) 
> 
> _"The secret is to not give up hope. It's very hard not to because if you're really doing something worthwhile I think you will be pushed to the brink of hopelessness before you come through the other side." - 𝒢𝑒𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒 𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒶𝓈_
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	2. Lazarus

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse two  


\- Lazarus -

* * *

_In the city of Sapporo where the snow blankets the streets the natives sip their tea from cups made of roses. Flower petals dot the white haze that hangs in the air. And then there are people clapping. Parades with dancing floats and oriental dragons. Confetti. Paper craft lanterns peppering the sky._

_Laughter. Whistling clusters of fireworks. Skyscraper wide jumbotrons creaking with static. Black oceans. Supplement food paste with every meal. Pills. Gas masks. Darkness. A door opens. Light switch. Click. His mother cold on the kitchen floor._

Momonga blinks his eyes open. With a groan he smooths a hand along his forehead, fingers combing through his hair. How odd. Was he dreaming just now? 

No. That’s not possible. 

What were his actions following this peculiarity? Hm. Ah, yes. Antithesis. This must be an adverse side effect from Antithesis. That is a more reasonable conclusion. 

Flecks of emerald skip across the sea of bed sheets as he sits up. Crackling fire purrs in his ears. Blinking, he takes the time to adjust to the hushed dark of the room. A yawn stretches his mouth wide. This is...nice. 

He sinks back into his pillow. So warm. Perhaps a bit more...rest...before...his eyes flutter shut. A soft smile brushes over his lips before his heart nearly punches out of his chest. Momonga chokes on a strangled rasp as he snaps back up.

There's a dull thud beating at his eardrums. Chewing on his cheek, he steals a glance towards his hand. After flexing his fingers and studying how the skin pulls firm with every movement he comes to the understanding that Antithesis worked as intended.

It takes him a moment to come to terms with the situation. He is human. Discomfort takes his face into a wince. A human with a full bladder.

Splendid. 

Why on Earth did he believe this to be a good idea?

_“I don’t want to lose you to nothing.”_

Curse you, Holly.

..Holly. 

Where is Holly.

His heart races while he feels about the bed for her. Certainly she is here somewhere?! When did this bed get so big? Or is it that he is now small by comparison? Confounded pillows! Why does she need so many?

This is too much too soon. 

He breathes a sigh of relief when his hand pats something a tad firmer than a pillow. “Holly. Holly, wake up.”

A soft mumble followed by a groan. “..Mph, go away.”

She asked for this. The many stars peppering Holly’s pajamas twinkle as Momonga throws the sheets off of her. Despite the urgency of his situation, he can’t hold back the chuckle sticking to his ribs as Holly curls up like a dead bug in response. 

From over the shoulder Holly shoots Momonga a dirty look. Once realization takes over, she belts out a gasp. “Holy shit! Ohh my god, I-I fell asleep! I’m so sorry, I didn’t, I was just, wait! You! It’s actually you! Like, _you_! And you’re awake! Are you okay?! How’s your skull?! Wait, head. Head? Yeah, head. That sounds about right, I think?”

His head? A wince steals Holly’s face as Momonga palms at his head in search of injury. Hm. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary? Then again, it has been sometime now since he has had to worry about such trivial matters pertaining to the living..

Something _else_ demands his attention for the time being. “I appear to be fine. However, excuse me for a moment.”

“What?! No!” Holly’s tail darts forward and corkscrews Momonga’s ankle. “Where are you going?! You hit your head, like, _hard_ , an--”

...This is so embarrassing. 

“Holly,” Momonga warns. “We will discuss matters within a moment!”

His face darkens as he fights away Holly’s tail. While he can understand her rightful concern? Now is not the time.

“Wait! Why are you---Oh!” Holly bites her lip. “Gotta pee?”

He’s not answering that. 

“You coulda just said so!” Holly laughs while Momonga sweeps aside the curtain of crystals to her en suite. 

After relieving himself he heads to the sink to wash up. The faucet whines with a creak. Steam breathes off the water while he reaches into a basket of assorted hand soaps. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he brings a rose sculpted bar of soap into his hand.

Like Tabula, Holly always was quite fond of customization. 

Splashing a bit of water onto his face, he proceeds to finish his grooming with a helping of mouthwash. It was a luxury he was never afforded before this new world and one he could not enjoy within it. Now he can, and it burns his eyes nearly to tears as he swishes the listerine around his gums.

Incredible.

Momonga retrieves a towel to pat dry his face. With a sigh, he folds the towel and hangs it back up before glancing into the mirror. Uwah..

A weak groan slips out of him while he combs his fingers through his hair, down his neck, only stopping when he grasps himself by the chin. Simply wonderful. Thirty five going on seventeen. Another groan that hinges on a whimper. Never once did he grow facial hair and that seems to remain a truth here, as well.

Turning his attention back to his hair, he figures it acceptable to search through Holly’s drawers for a comb. Surely she won’t mind? Hmm. Perhaps he should ask for permission before rummaging through her toiletries..? 

“Find what you’re lookin’ for?” His stomach drops. With arms crossed over her chest and face painted with a smirk, Holly leans against the door frame of her en suite.

Clearing his throat, Momonga slams the cabinet shut. “Holly! Ah, yes. Yes, I did. T-Thank you for asking.”

…Wait. No.

His brows knit together. Is.. is that truly his voice? Uwah, thirty five going on seventeen indeed! He had nearly forgotten what he used to sound like. This is no longer embarrassing.

This is mortifying. 

“Bottom left.”

“Come again?”

“Bottom left. I keep all of my brushes and stuff in the bottom left drawer. But uh,” Holly steps forward. Glancing away, she rubs at her neck as she groans, “A lot of them are kinda all busted up. Cause, ya know.”

His eyes roam around her frame before he gives into a sympathetic nod. When designing her avatar, Holly did go a tad overboard with her hair. Nevertheless, it’s beautiful. The way her abundance of curls bounce around her figure reminds him of the mermaids on Midgard. 

A blush creeps up onto his face as Holly takes her place beside him and slides open the bottom left drawer. H-He...err, rather, he’s never quite noticed how pretty she is. True, her avatar has always been aesthetically pleasing, but now as she lives and breathes?

He glances away while she retrieves a comb. Although his keen sense of smell has been lost, he can still pick up on the halo of flowers kissing her skin as she turns to face him. Most notably, roses. His cheeks continue to darken. Just like the bar soap from moments ago.

A gulp races down his throat as she smiles and presents him with an intact comb. S-Sh-She’s so pretty. How has he never noticed this? From her freckles of scales, emerald eyes, and warm peachy skin, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had once been a constellation in formation and had instead decided to be who she is now. 

His spine tickles with a shudder as he watches her lips while she asks, “...Are you alright?”

Her lips are lovely. Voluptuous and a charming shade of champagne pink. Another shudder warms his blood. Would she ever consider kissing him? 

Holly lays a hand across Momonga’s forehead. “Momonga. You’re all sweaty. Talk to me, what’s goin' on?”

The sharp inhale he sucks in fogs his mind and leaves him a bit dizzy as he stumbles backwards. Yanking at his robes, he covers his front before stuttering, “Forgive me! I-I, it seems, rather, well, I..I, Yes. I’m merely experiencing a simple side effect from Antithesis, it seems. Yes! A side effect.”

He wants to die. Rather, be dead once again.

He has an erection. He has an erection _now_ of all times.

Most fortunately, it seems that she didn’t take notice. That takes the edge off, at least. Thankfully he had these robe---.....When did he get these robes.

What was he wearing when he turned human.

...This. This is awful.

“Here, I can help,” The dull throb of his heart is nearing painful as Holly takes a step towards him. With his back against the counter, he clutches his robes tighter, mentally begging her not to get any closer.

She will _never_ let him live it down if she finds out he’s aroused. If push comes to shove, perhaps he can blame it on Antithesis? Yes! That’s what he will do. This is merely him adjusting to becoming human once again and has nothing to do with how gorgeous she is. 

Holly closes her eyes. Filling her lungs, he watches with fixed interest as her lips part. How her chest rises and how the silky fabric of her pajamas shift along her curves. He bites back a groan. Chills consume him and send a pool of warmth to his stomach. 

With the release of her breath, Holly lets slip a tear from her right eye. Gold consumes the tear as it rolls down her cheek, metallic sheen bouncing off of her scales. Collecting the magic with a smear of her finger, Holly gifts Momonga with a kind smile before smudging the bead of light across his forehead.

Typically Holly’s [Tears of Jormungandr] would deal damage to him. On the contrary, it now lends a flutter to his eyelids as a high glazes his mind. His body stills. Freeing the grip on his robes, his head gives way to an idle nod as he leans against the counter.

“There,” Holly breathes. “That should fix ya right up. Feel any better?”

Mmm. He squeezes his eyes shut before blinking them open. “Indeed, I am. You have my thanks. I can not begin to express to you how stressful all of this is at the moment.”

Lips tucked into a wince, she whispers, “It’s a lot a lot, huh?”

Momonga hums in affirmation.

“...I’m just glad you’re okay. You almost gave me a heart attack last night, ya know. But...here,” Holly sets the comb down. “I can tell you still need a minute. I was just worried and wanted to check on you. Take all the time you need, kay? I’ll be out there. Annnd if I fall asleep again just beat my ass with a pillow.”

Momonga barks a laugh. “Duly noted.”

Holly slips through the ribbons of crystals dripping from the door frame as she retreats. Just as the curtains of crystals close, Holly glances over her shoulder and sends Momonga a sweet smile that drives his stomach into a somersault. 

He toys with the comb before running it through his hair. Years ago, there was a time where he had taken quite the liking to her. Shortly after he brought her into the guild, if he recalls. Hah! She was the definition of a noob. One of her more notable moments had to have been when she attempted to swim in the River of fire on the Seventh floor. 

That was rather amusing to wake up to and see on the guild roster. Furthermore, there’s the time he managed to convince her there was a loot crate in Death Valley on Muspelheim. He chuckles. Poor Holly. She probably still believes there was one there. 

At first her company was bothersome. Uwah. She was terrible at Yggdrasil starting out. Conversely, her enthusiasm was unrivaled. Without fail, he would receive [Message]’s from her on a daily basis. 

_Incoming [Message] - Hey! I see you’re online! Are you up for a raid?_

_Incoming [Message] - Omg! I found a crystal coelacanth!_

_I_ _ncoming [Message] - Guess who died five times today but got a suuuper awesome sword?_

_Incoming [Message] [Image attachment] - Aren’t you looking for one of these?_

He sets the comb down.

_Incoming [Message] - ...Are you gonna be on today?_

It was after that [Message] that he began to take the initiative of starting a conversation with her rather than simply responding. Sometime later after she reached level one hundred, he brought her to Nazarick and handed her a Ring of Ainz Ooal Gown.

_“Really?!”_

_A firework emoji sprung over Momonga’s head. “Yes! Yes, of course. I have been meaning to give you one of those for quite some time now.”_

_Holly squealed with a laugh as she did a celebratory spam of her avatar in a crouch spin._

He remembers that day quite fondly.

She met the basic guild requirements. On top of it all, Holly was oddly charming. Funny. Tenacious. Intelligent, but just naive enough that she always had a way of making him feel important.

...He releases a sigh. They were better off as friends, in any case.

Before he takes his leave from the washroom, he gives himself a final look. He brushes a finger along his cheek. Humanity. What does it mean to be human? Is it a mere term to be thrown around when morals are in question, or something more? Is it a universal concept, or personal?

He has only been human again for fifteen or so minutes, give or take. And as of yet?

Humanity is a nuisance. 

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *


	3. Presumption

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse three  


\- Presumption -

* * *

Three hours. As a rule, Antithesis was attributed a maximum of three hours before wearing off and rendering it’s user back to true form. When announced, Antithesis was an item that could only be won from tournaments. Never farmed. Never bought. That remained true up until the conclusion of Yggdrasil. In contrast, the time given to Antithesis went through a series of meta changes. However, at the end, Antithesis returned to being a three hour consumable. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Three hours.

According to Holly, six hours have passed since he equipped and used the item. Six hours have passed since she pulled him out of his robes, dressed him with the robes he has now, and placed him to rest on her bed. Fortunately, he was clothed. Black shorts and a form fitted tank top. Yggdrasil’s standard apparel for humans. 

That is his only blessing at the moment. His stomach ties itself into a knot.

Six hours.

This was meant to be a conversation. A deconstruction on their lives in this new world thus far. Above all else, it was to his understanding that the goal of this discussion was to bring them both peace. A means of reassuring one another that although heteromorphic, through all this new world and the events that have taken place thus far, that they’re still _who they are._

A sentiment that was lost on him due to his racial. He didn’t care. Couldn’t care, rather. Conversely, Holly did care, _does care_ , and that was enough to bring him to where he is now.

...For three hours, that is. 

Six hours. Six hours and counting.

He has only been awake for thirty minutes.

Existentialism is the least of his concerns, moving forward.

Out of all the issues plaguing his mind, there’s one in particular that stands out above the rest. One that has the pace of his heart at an impossible tempo. Above losing his power, surpassing his responsibilities to the Sorcerer Kingdom, forsaking that meeting he has in Baharuth with Emperor Jircniv, there’s the guardians.

Should this persist...how will the guardians handle the news that their supreme being has become human? Human. _Human._ A portion of Nazarick functions on the backs of humans. Quite literally. They make for excellent magical scrolls. 

Fingers curling into a fist as he balls up the bed sheets, he finds himself wondering if they will still see him as their god or a scroll?

He turns his attention to Holly as she inches closer. Surely the guardians will still be loyal to Holly? They have no reason not to be. On the contrary, without him...

“Hey,” Holly puts up a non convincing smile. “How are you feelin’?”

Like death warmed over. Momonga shakes his head. “Tired and a tad overwhelmed.”

“Do you wanna go back to sleep? I mean, you were kinda awake for a long time.” Retrieving a pillow, Holly gives it an enticing squeeze before offering it to Momonga.

That’s out of the question. While he does fancy the idea of rest, there’s far too much at stake. “No. No, but I appreciate your concern. Nevermind me, right now we need to focus on how to handle...hah. Me.”

One step at a time. 

Momonga rubs a hand against his face. There’s something he needs to know. “Holly. There are a few spells that I need you to cast over me. Specifically, [Life Essence], [Mana Essence], and [Day break].”

Gold leaf paints Holly’s hands with magic as she breathes the three spells to life. With a fill of her lungs, Holly’s eyes turn to light as she rests a hand on Momonga’s shoulder. Reflexively, he flinches at the touch. 

“Um..you okay?” There’s a soft echo to her voice.

His fingers twitch with a nervous itch. Odd. Finding his center and brushing off her concern, Momonga resumes. “Tell me, what do you see?”

“An asshole.”

Momonga’s nostrils flare. Why does she always have to find a way to test his patience? “Now is not the time. _Please_ take this seriously. There are unknown variables involved with me at this moment that I would like to make known, as it were.”

Holly pinches her arm back before clasping a hand upon Momonga’s shoulder once more. Another flinch. “....I-I can’t see anything. But um, I can feel. I think your life total is fine, though. As for level, if I were to make a good guess? It feels like you’re around the goblins in Carne Village. The uh..level twelve ones.”

Better than expected, but the news still tugs his face into a wince. “Continue.”

Holly grips Momonga’s shoulder. “I..I-I can’t feel your magic. At all.”

Silence.

Neither can he. He already knew. However, confirmation was necessary due to the uncertainty of this circumstance.

Momonga glares daggers at the wall. If she hadn’t come to badger him on matters that weren't necessary for Nazarick? He wouldn’t be in this mess. Never once would he have considered Antithesis if not for her and her pestering. Damn her and her...care.

Holly’s hand slips off of Momonga’s shoulder. The light beaming from her eyes fades with the exhale she releases. As the gold vanishes from her fingertips she seizes hold of a pillow and crosses her arms around it. She won’t look at him. She won’t look at him because she knows that this is her…

Momonga leans his head back. He closes his eyes. This isn’t her fault. Antithesis was his gambit. Unprompted. Her only contribution was consideration. Uwah. He rubs circles against his temples. So much emotion. Truly, is this what it’s like to be human once again?

He can’t remember. 

Momonga bites back a groan. Life was so much easier when he wasn’t alive.

Three hollow knock’s greet Holly’s door. Eyes darting open, Momoga snaps his focus to Holly and whispers all too quickly, “Tell whoever that is that you are unavailable.”

Holly’s face pales before she shoves her pillow into Momonga’s lap and darts towards the door. Momonga’s shoulders square. Why does he have a feeling that that’s--

“Good morning, Lady Holly. If I may, might I ask for a bit of your time? There are concerns at the farmstead that I believe would benefit from your support. Specifically, the crystal shelled terrapins.”

Demiurge.

“Uhh, uhh?! Sorrynotrightnowkaythanksbye!” Slamming the door shut, Holly spins on a heel before smacking her back against the door. 

Momonga’s jaw hits the floor. A pause. “Why-Wha-What?! Holly! What on earth was that?!”

“Uhh?!” Holly’s eyes are wild as she shrugs her shoulders. “What?! I panicked!”

How. How can someone be so intelligent yet lack common sense?!

A column of dark fire shoots up from Holly’s floor. As the flames calm, Demiurge rises through the fire with a bow. “Lady Holly. Forgive my intrusion, however I can not stand idly by when there is a matter at hand that is obviously troubling you. Now then, how may I be of…I see.”

Momonga’s spine shudders with a strike of ice as Demiurge shoots him the hint of a grin. “Allow me to escort this subject to the room of truth for you, my supreme one. Interrogation is so far below you. Rest assured that I will see to it that Neuronist Painkill extracts any and all vital information that you seek.”

“No! Nonono!” Holly bolts over to Demiurge. Hands at her chest in a display of defense, she stammers, “He-He’s a friend! Yeah! A friend. A good friend! We like him.”

One day, Momonga is going to write a book. He is going to write a book and give it the title: Holly Leonhardt and the art of how NOT to be subtle.

Demiurge tugs at his tie in adjustment. “Of course. My sincerest apologies, my lady.”

“Heyyy, no problem! So uh, the terrapins? Are they swapping shells again?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, our recent stock of bipedal sheep have become victim to amputation due to their aggressive nature,” Demiurge chuckles. “As expected of a supreme one, it seems they prefer your attention.”

Demiurge reveals a slash across one of his gloves. “Might I trouble you with this challenge? Be certain that I would not request your aid if not for the resources that the terrapins offer Nazarick.”

“Oh, um, yeah! Sure. Ya know, I bet you it’s the food. Whenever I visit I always bring them oranges. With the peels! That’s important. They like that shit for some reason,” Holly tosses Momonga a glance before rubbing at her neck. “Is it like...super important? Or can it wait, cause I’m kinda preoccupied.” 

Preoccupied is an understatement.

“While the situation does call for concern it is not dire. Now then, allow me to leave you to your company.” With a hand gracing his chest, Demiurge dips his head into a bow. 

Steadying his breath, Momonga frees a hushed exhale. Most excellent. Demiurge should be taking his leave here promptly.

From over the rim of his glasses, Demiurge’s crystalline eyes cut into Momonga’s face. “How rude of me. It seems introductions are in order.”

Wonderful. Ulbert would be delighted to know that through the eyes of both life and death his creation is absurdly terrifying. 

Momonga’s adam's apple bobs as he struggles down a swallow. Nevertheless, he is still the guild leader of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. This is nothing that he is not accustomed to. Merely, this is acting. Which he is great at! He convinced the guardians he was their ruler, after all. 

“Ah, right. Demiurge, was it?”

“A befitting name, no? It was a gift from a god, after all,” Demiurge folds his hands behind his back as he takes steps towards Momonga. “And who might you be? Surely someone worthy of Lady Holly’s audience will have a name suitable to her presence.”

Name! He needs a name. Mind racing, he only draws blanks as all roads lead him to his adventuring moniker. Demiurge’s tail gives a twitch as he stares at Momonga. Zero expression.

“Timothy!” Holly blurts out. “Yeah! His name is Timothy! Timmy for short. Tim for realllly short.”

...Timothy.

That name is so lame! He’s not a Timothy?!

“Timothy,” Demiurge parrots. A dark smile carves itself into Demiurge’s face as he claims the space beside Holly’s bed. “Interesting. Tell me, Tim. How did you happen to come into my lady’s good graces?”

This is awful. Does she really see him as a Tim?

Black flames lick around Demiurge’s frame as he continues to sink his gaze into Momonga. Silence fills the space between them. Seemingly bored of his target, Demiurge allows for his focus to sweep over Holly’s bedroom. Fortunately, this gives Momonga a bit more time to come up with an origin story. Hopefully before Holly spits out something ridiculous once again. 

Tightly knit brows pull Demiurge’s face in as his attention anchors towards the floor. Light years of thoughts seem to wrinkle his face further as he takes a knee and smooths a thumb over Momonga’s former robes.

A sharp inhale from Holly. Momonga closes his eyes. 

Shadows skip beneath Demiurge’s diamond eyes as he bounces his gaze from the robes, to Momonga, then to Holly. He repeats this process a handful of times before the color drains from his face.

Demiurge remains on bended knee. He clears his throat. “Lady Holly.”

With a square of her chest, Holly brings her arms behind her back as she straightens her posture. She says nothing. Merely, a grave expression colors her face as she casts her stare on Demiurge.

Silence. 

Demiurge brings a hand up to his chest. He balls up the fabric of his suit. “...Forgive my insolence, Lord Ainz.”

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *


	4. Chain of Souls

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse four  


\- Chain of Souls -  


* * *

Although still seated on Holly’s bed, Momonga believes it to be so very far away from him. Everything comes to him in an echo. His thoughts. _Thoughts._ The saliva collecting along the rim of his mouth. _Mouth._ The beat of his heart. _Heart._

He thinks he’s going to vomit. _Vomit._

“I need a moment alone with Holly,” It’s all he can manage to say as a rush of liquid gurgles up and threatens his throat. Momonga tucks his head down into his shoulders. No. He chokes it down. Weakness is not an option. Not in front of Demiurge. 

“As is your will, My Lord.” 

“Um, wait outside by the door?” Holly offers with a wince.

Demiurge dips his head into a nod as he slips by her. Without a sound, the demon takes his leave and assumes his position outside. A pang of guilt forces Momonga to shift his seating. Without prior knowledge, regardless of Demiurge’s superior intellect, he could not have known. 

That, however, is the least of his concerns.

Licking his lips, Momonga takes note of how he is beginning to feel a tad fuzzy around the edges. Most notably, his fingertips. Closing his eyes should help. Relief doesn’t come fast enough as water rushes to fill his mouth. Momonga doubles over with a wet choke, cheeks ballooning as he cradles his middle.

This is unpleasant. 

[Chain of Souls]

Blots of white and gold wink over his eyelids. Another heartbeat takes turns thudding against his own. His nausea subsides, and quite frankly, he doubts it was ever even there to begin with.

He opens his eyes. “That is twice now.”

Holly smiles, laughter hinting at a chorus of voices harmonizing behind her own. “I thought we weren’t keeping score?”

Indeed, they did call a truce quite some time ago. By comparison, if he recalls correctly? He is still in the lead. Nevertheless, the connection to her power through [Chain of Souls] has put him at ease. Whispers of sunlight dot the room as they rise from the floor like steam. Chords of gold travel beads of light between Holly’s fingertips and Momonga’s chest. 

He’s always enjoyed the animations behind her spells. They were beautiful in Yggdrasil. 

More so, now.

“Thank you, Holly.”

The heartbeat beside his jumps. “D-Don’t mention it.”

Huh?

It returns to normal. How odd.

“Hey. I think I know what’s goin’ on with you,” Holly’s gentle laughter fills the room as the chorus below her voice sings. Gingerly, she pokes at his stomach. He flinches. “Ya know, it’s kinda been awhile since you ate something.”

“Nonsense. I do not requi---....” The words fall dead out of his mouth. In mock of his ignorance, his stomach gurgles. 

Momonga’s cheeks darken. He is hungry. Rather, he is starving. 

“Here. Eat this slowly, kay? It’ll help take the edge off until we can actually get you the good shit,” With a snap of her fingers, a flash of green fire takes over Holly’s hand. The flames crackle as they form a candy bar.

The wrapper crinkles as Holly sets it in Momonga’s hands. Turning it over a few times, Momonga’s brows furrow as he studies the packaging. Chocolate.

...He hasn’t had chocolate since he was a child.

He doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he carefully peels a corner of the wrapper away before breaking off a piece. Smooth. Melts between his fingers when he applies pressure. 

His mother was fond of chocolate. 

“...Momonga?”

He doesn’t say anything. He just lays the sliver of chocolate into his mouth and savors the taste. 

Silence. 

Holly works her fingers as she plays the golden chords linking them together. 

She doesn’t say anything. 

She doesn’t have too.

Momonga’s eyes hunt around the room for a trash can once he’s finished. Surely she has one?

“I’ve got it,” Holly brushes her fingers against Momonga’s hand in want of the wrapper. He flinches before giving it to her. Confusion twists her face up.

“...Why do you keep doing that.”

“Hm?”

“You..You keep doing this,” With a flick of her wrist, Holly jerks her hand away in demonstration. “Whenever I um, touch you. It’s startin’ to weird me out.”

Momonga sighs. “I have noticed. Conversely, I do not understand it myself either. It is purely reflex however, I assure you.”

Unfortunately, that is a half truth. It should be understood that when dealing with those that you hold dear that deception becomes protection. How would she handle him if he disclosed to her that the last person to touch him was a coworker tapping him on the shoulder?

That’s not her burden. 

The wrapper whines with a pop as Holly burns it to flecks of ash that she shakes away with a wiggle of her fingers. The heart beat against his increases in tempo. “Well, in any case do you maybe...wanna go to the staff canteen? You haven’t lived until, well, yeah, you actually have been kinda dead awhile. Haha..um, soba noodles, persimmons and salmon--wait! Fuck! Tuna! Right? I think?”

All he can feel is her heart thudding as his hesitates. “Hah, yo-you remembered that? Y-Yes. Yes, you are correct. Quite spot on, rather. I am particular to both tuna and salmon.”

“Yeah! Of course I remembered! I mean, yeah. You uh, well, you didn’t talk about it often but I remembered that you’d get that for lunch sometimes. Now and again you’d mention it, I mean. It’s not like you talked about it a lot, I mean,” Holly glances away. The tip of her tail wiggles as it knocks against the floor. “I’ll um, get Demiurge too--”

Demiurge’s voice reaches from under the door. “At once, Lady Holly.” 

Momonga’s eyes widen. Darting his focus between the door and Holly, he whispers, “By what method did he hear you?”

“Uhhh, he has big ears? I mean, really. I think he could hear an ant taking a piss a mile away.”

Momonga shakes his head with a groan. Demiurge undeniably heard that. Uwah. Congratulations, Holly. That was needlessly uncomfortable. 

With a shrug of a shoulder, Holly bites back a laugh. “What?”

Momonga narrows his eyes. She knows what. Rather, she takes pride in it.

...Peroroncino would have adored her.

* * *

Every other candelabra tree that lines the table before him blazes with dark fire. With a flourish of Holly’s hand, green flames dot the rest. A grin takes her face as she plops down into her chair.

Momonga faintly chuckles as he claims his seat across from her. Indisputably, the control she has gained over her magic is coming along quite nicely. Her time with Pandora’s Actor has been well spent. 

Dabbing his napkin into his glass of water, Momonga presses the cloth to his face. A deep breath. He pat dries the collection of sweat bordering the hood of his robes. Without the aid of his emotional suppressor he is left at odds with himself. While he is irrefutably eager to eat, no less eat quality food, conversely he is a tad anxious. Is there a manner of which he needs to abide by when eating? Holly most likely will have little regard for his mannerisms. In contrast, Demiurge most certainly will.

Uwah. This silverware is positively frustrating. Which spoon does he use, let alone fork? Why are there so many? This is ridiculous. While he appreciates Demiurge’s suggestion of a more intimate setting versus the staff canteen, this is...well. Holly would say that it is a lot a lot.

Is this how those around him feel? Constantly cycling through their emotions while going about the dealings of their day? In addition, is this truly how he used to process life?

This is..unbearably tiresome. 

Seven hours. Seven hours and he greatly misses the serenity of death. 

From a silver platter resting upon Demiurge’s arm sits two wine glasses swirling with a liquid so turqoise it nearly hurts to look at. Momonga blinks a few times. That seems to help. 

Demiurge bends at his chest as he sets a glass before Momonga, then Holly. Reaching into his breast pocket, Demiurge retrieves his handkerchief to wipe the condensation from Momonga’s glass as he explains, “As requested for you by Lady Holly, Lord Ainz.”

“Clearly,” Momonga allows himself to chuckle. Lifting a hand, he pulls back the hood of his robes to pool around his neck and shoulders. “Thank you, Demiurge. Now then, would you be so kind as to excuse us?”

Momonga’s shoulders tense. Unfortunately, there was no better way to say that..

“Yes. Of course, my supreme one. Shall I return once everything is in order and ready to serve?”

“Ah, right. Indeed, please do.” This is horrible. His voice is entirely too prepubescent. What does Demiurge think of him? 

“Hey, can I get a fried egg with my burger? Oh! And can they like, make my fries crispy? But I still want some to do the flimsy thing.”

The flimsy thing?

Demiurge chuckles as he tucks the platter under an arm. “I will make certain of it.”

Momonga relaxes into his seat as Demiurge takes his leave. Relief floods his exhale. Considering his lack of poise at the moment, he finds it best to avoid any needless contact with Demiurge. By all accounts, it is not that he finds distaste in Demiurge’s presence. Quite the opposite. Demiurge’s superior intellect is fascinating albeit intimidating. 

No. It is not that he does not enjoy his company.

It is that he does not want to disappoint him. 

A shudder travels down Momonga’s spine. He does not want to disappoint _any_ of them. 

Holly dances her feet below the table as she takes a sip of her drink. “Come on. Try it! It’ll turn your tongue blue!”

Ah, yes. His drink. How silly of him. It seems that he is still catching up with himself. “Really now?”

To prove her point, Holly sticks out her tongue. A pair of dancing eyebrows follows. Chuckling to himself, Momonga brings his glass into his grasp. Indeed, her tongue is blue. A violent shade of blue, might he add.

...That reminds him of something.

Momonga cracks a smile as he gazes into the teal liquid. Hints of a [Frost aura] climb up the neck of the wine glass as he rolls the stem of the drink. “Tell me, does this remind you of the crystal lakes on Niflheim?” 

Holly grins. “I thought that, too! Didja know there’s a green one that looks like the guts from that one raid boss from the All is Ruin expansion?”

“The Orc priest, Riptide? Hah! Really now? Is there a red one? Perhaps reminiscent of the armor from the Heart of Muspelheim?”

Holly’s eyes light up. “No, but now I _really_ want one.”

“I do, as well.” Momonga chuckles. 

When was the last time they reminisced like this? 

The thud of her tail smacking the floor startles him. Holly barks a laugh. “Drink up! Seriously, I can’t believe I’m more excited about this than you are.”

...A hint of a smirk twitches onto Momonga’s lips. Ah, yes. Most excellent. Revenge truly is a dish best served cold. Without another word, Momonga takes a sip from his drink. On reflex his cheeks pucker. Oh. Tart. That is tart. However, oddly reminiscent of the mouthwash in Holly’s en suite. No mint, mind you. It is in the way that the chilled liquid burns his nostrils that gives him that reminder.

It isn’t unpleasant, however. Rather, it reminds him of what he believes the crystal raspberries from the orchards on Midgard in winter might have tasted like.

Crisp, delightfully sour, and refreshing. 

He’s quite fond of it, already.

Holly’s tail beats the floor. “Well?!”

Momonga shrugs as he tugs his coaster closer before setting the glass down. “All in all, I’m sad to say that it is a tad disappointing.”

Holly’s posture deflates as her face sags with a frown. Mm. All according to plan. Momonga sighs. “Do not concern yourself, Holly, It is quite alright. I was simply hoping for something... No. No, never mind. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Do you maybe want one of the green ones??” Holly squirms in her seat. “Ya know, I could ask Demi--”

Momonga places a hand up. “No, no. Rest assured I am fine. There’s no need to trouble Demiurge with such a trivial matter.”

Discomfort sweeps across Holly’s face as she chews on her cheek. Hmm. How long should he keep this up? Perhaps one more...With a sigh, Momonga glances away. “Merely, I had hoped that.. My apologies. Pay me no mind.”

Holly croaks with a whimper as she stares into her glass. Momonga takes his time with his inhale, savoring the air he breathes as he reaches for his drink. Making a point of looking her dead in the face, he allows a slurp to grate the air as he sips.

Holly’s eyes meet Momonga's as her brows pinch together. Come now, Holly. She made this entirely too easy. As per usual, he saves the killing blow for last. It is more fun that way, of course. Only when her face has become completely consumed with confusion does a smirk split across his.

Checkmate.

Holly shoots up out of her seat with a gasp.

“Momonga!” Her face is beat red as she barks, “Oh my god! You! Y-You’re such an asshole!”

Momonga laughs. Without aid of his emotional suppressor, he only finds himself laughing harder as Holly flags her tail and continues to rant about what a jerk he is.

All he does his laugh until his chest is sore.

He doesn’t remember the last time he felt this alive. 

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *


	5. Reality

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse five  


\- Reality -

* * *

Twenty years ago Japan fought alongside Germany during the Battle for Wrangel island. Bonds of a fellowship thought lost reunited the two nations under the banner of their authoritarian ultranationalism and a single common goal. In reflection of their relations from the mid twentieth century, Japan and Germany became a two headed giant that sought to drink Russia of her oil.

The world was at war.

It is often said that without careful consideration to our history, we will be doomed to repeat it.

The world was at war.

Nobody wins in war. Everyone suffers and the consequences of the actions made from those at the top are felt the heaviest by those at the bottom. Following the end of the war, Germany was succeeded into Russia and promptly converted into a country sized warehouse with the primary focus of distribution. 

Japan was no different. 

Russia met god’s will when the prime minister spent the last known drop of oil.

That is when the skies became dark.

Gas masks rapidly grew to become a necessity for those residing in the Eastern hemisphere. Post nuclear fall out, the oceans became an inaccessible resource for food. Those countries unfortunate enough to rely on the ocean for nutrition soon found themselves with a crude death rate ratio surpassing that of the Bubonic plague. 

Two time winner of the Nobel Peace prize, Julie N. Schultz, sought to solve that issue. In conclusion, Ms. Schultz earned her third award when she introduced a supplementary food paste that would aid in world hunger.

It was both the cruelest yet philanthropic decision made for humanity. Therefore, her speech circa 2120 received no applause. Only silence.

Julie N. Schultz’s speech contained merely two quotes.

“We cannot despair for humanity; For we are humans ourselves.” Albert Einstein. 

“Pray for your health first, then pray for humanity.” Maxime Lagace.

* * *

Steam wafts in sheets from a bowl of soba noodles brimming with miso stock. Boiled eggs with warm centers ooze their yellow into the broth. Thinly sliced carrots lean against stalks of bok choy. Braiding the noodles around his chopsticks, Momonga idly swirls the ingredients as he admires the vibrancy of their colors. 

Traditionally, the soup bowls he partook of were rather dull. Freeze dried preservatives and powder packets. Undoubtedly more palpable than the food paste, however. By contrast, the meal before him is incredible. The shiitake mushrooms are plump, the scallions are aromatic, and the noodles slip around each other rather than stick together.

With a groan, Momonga allows his head to fall back into his seat. Is he truly going to partake of a third helping?

...Yes. Yes, he is. 

Holly whines before pressing a plate of half eaten cake away as Momonga gathers a bit of egg yolk into his next bite. Thunking her forehead upon the table, she mumbles, “I think I’m gonna barf.”

Momonga chuckles before tasting his next mouthful. “You have my sympathy.”

Closing his eyes, he’s mindful to make certain that he takes his time to chew and savor his food. Earlier he was entirely too eager. In all fairness that was to be expected. As Holly pointed out, while obvious, he hasn’t eaten in quite some time now. Which brings to head a question. Is his human body attempting to compensate for the lack of nutrition from his former undead self? Surely that is why he is so thin and not due to the fact that he has always been rather...well. Never mind that. 

...Ah, right. Savor the food. While lost in his thoughts he forgot. 

Uwah.

Momonga turns his attention to Holly as she creeps a hand over to a frosted glass of something she calls Honey bubbly. Mmm. He wonders what it might taste like?

A bit of modesty darkens his face as he reflects on her calling him adorable for wanting to sample her cheeseburger. He, err, rather he simply had never had one before. Understandably, he can see why she’s enthusiastic about them. While his preferences still reside with tuna when it comes to protein, he would be hypocritical to denounce beef. It’s exquisite. 

Cheese is also quite nice.

“Do you want some?” Ah. She caught him staring.

“Perhaps another time. For now, I am needles--...” Momonga’s lips tug into a weak smile as Holly squints at him. He muffles a chuckle. Again, yet another demand under the guise of formality.

Very well, then. 

Tail rattling behind her, Holly leans over the table as she slides the mug Momonga’s way. _Splash!_ Caramel liquid with a cloud of whipped cream slap Momonga’s wrist as the mug smacks into his hand. Uwah. Her giggling means she must be pleased with herself from that little stunt.

...Adorable.

Once finished with wiping himself clean, Momonga collects a cup for himself, and a pause strikes his mind. Hesitation deadens his arm as he notices the petite yet unmistakable outline of Holly’s lips upon the glass. Something in him slips as his heart tickles his breathing. Would it be a pseudo kiss if he..? Absurd! Why is he thinking of that?

Stabbing her fork into a strawberry, Holly scoops up a bite of cake before stuffing it into her mouth. Impressive. He was certain she was tapped out. Chewing around her food, Holly grumbles, “Mph, I don’t have cooties ya know.”

Err, it is rather impolite. However, if she insists..trading places with his cup and the mug of Honey bubbly, he takes a sip. His eyelids flutter as the cream tingles his gums. This is rather nice. The carbonation is soothing while the syrupy sweet honey reminds him of a persimmon. 

Hm. 

“This is lovely, Holly. Thank you,” Momonga sets the drink down as he wipes away the cream upon his upper lip. Reaching a hand into a cornucopia bursting with fruit, he fishes around for a persimmon. Ah, there’s one. Smiling, he jumps the soft fruit in his palm. Most excellent. It’s perfectly ripe.

“Allow me to return the favor.”

For all intents and purposes, he’s quite secure in the knowledge that she has not partaken of a persimmon before. These were native to his region of the globe, albeit scarce. He sends a glance towards the fruit within his grasp. Waxy. Amber in hue with petite dots of moisture. Unironically, he’s unsure if he’s ever even had one this nice.

Demiurge does an excellent job with the farmstead, it seems. As expected. He makes a mental note to inform the demon as such at a later time.

Now then.

Momonga gestures towards the seat beside him. “Care to share this with me?”

“Is it good?”

“No,” Momonga deadpans. “It is terrible. You will hate it.”

Holly shoots Momonga a smirk before sliding her chair back. “How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“Come over here,” Momonga chuckles. “Indulge me.”

Holly’s midnight blue ringlets sweep against Momonga’s robes as she plops down into the seat beside him. They share a laugh as the static clinging to his cloak keeps her curls adhered to him. He doesn’t mind. Neither does she, it seems.

Moving right along, all he requires now is a spoon and a knife. While the skin is edible and to the preference of some, it has a tendency of coming across quite bitter. Due to the nature of Holly’s sweet tooth, he’s sure that removing the peel will be more suitable to her liking. 

Momonga retrieves a knife and slices through the persimmon with a single, clean cut. Clear juices ooze from the line. Setting the knife down, he sinks a thumb into the meat of the fruit before splitting it open. Warm reds that bleed into glistening golds are revealed. 

Holly gasps adoringly. “The middle has a little star?”

Heat creeps into his cheeks. He thought she’d like that. “Indeed. Now, if you see right here…”

Equipping himself with a spoon, Momonga presses into one of the eight slits that circle the core of the persimmon. With a little pressure a seed pops out. “Would it interest you to hear a bit of folklore?”

Holly’s elbows meet her knees as she leans forward. The catch lights in her eyes sparkle as if they have stars in them as she glances between him and the persimmon before nodding. His stomach reaches up to tickle his heart. 

“Err, I..ahem. Excuse me, I..Yes. Where was I? Folklore! Yes,” He bites back a whimper. He is _so_ lame. “...In Sapporo, Persimmons often found themselves at the focus of agriculture prophecy. Specifically, winter as a result of their autumn harvest.”

The seed rolls within the bowl of the spoon as Momonga rocks it to and fro. “I am not certain where its origin began. Nevertheless, it became tradition in Sapporo to open these seeds and read their kernels as symbols. Specifically knives, forks, and spoons. In conclusion, the kernel was thought to predict the nature behind the quality of winter the city would experience.”

“Ya know, in America we had something kinda similar to that with apples? I don’t remember the kind of apple, but I do know that if we had a really hard winter the apples would be really good,” Holly purses her lips. “...Okay so maybe that’s nothing like what you said.”

Momonga chuckles. “And what brought you to that conclusion? There are plenty of comparisons to be drawn.”

“I mean, I just,” Holly sends a thoughtful smile to the ground. “I guess you’re right.”

...Is she being bashful?

Momonga’s back straightens with the clearing of his throat. “Would you care to do the honors?”

“Huh? Oh! Oh, really?! You’re sure you don’t wanna?”

“Trust me when I say that I would take further joy in watching you open this than myself,” Momonga sets the seed into Holly’s hand with a tilt of the spoon. She will need a knife, so he hands her one of those as well. 

Biting her lip, Holly digs the tip of the knife into the peak of the seed. Before she cuts it open she gives Momonga a wiggle of her eyebrows. 

Holly carves the seed open. Her sweet expression slumps. “Aww. I think we got a bad one.”

“Really now? Allow me,” Momonga leans forward and takes a peek at the seed. Rather than a knife, fork, or spoon he sees a corkscrewed kernel. The traditionally opaque flesh of the seed appears to be rotten, as well. How odd. 

“Maybe the persimmons here are just different? I mean, makes sense right?”

“Agreed,” Unfortunate. The seed was a disappointment. In contrast, he’s certain she will enjoy the taste of the fruit. Sliding the spoon beneath the skin, he scoops out the many hues of rubies and golds of the persimmon. Juices drip from the bowl of the spoon so he collects a napkin before offering it to Holly. “Try this and tell me what you think of it, if you would.”

“I’m gonna hate it.” Holly’s tail knocks against her seat as her lips curl with a smirk. 

“Certainly.”

As expected, her eyes light up as she sticks the spoon in her mouth and samples the fruit. She hums a delightful squeal before laughing, “Yep! I hate it. In fact, I hate it soo much that I think I should have the other half so that you don’t have to put up with it.”

Momonga laughs. “How thoughtful of you. Perhaps we should spare you the agony and throw it away, instead?”

Holly belts out a gasp. “The trash can doesn’t deserve that! What did it ever do to you?!”

Momonga closes his eyes, biting down on his cheek to stifle his laughter. No. He’s not going to allow for her to win this.

There’s a tug at his robes. “Gimmie.”

“No.”

“...Please?”

“No.”

“Come on. You know you wanna.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Holly giggles. “No.”

“That won’t work on me. The effort is duly noted, however.”

“Awww.”

Wonderful. That turnaround was easier than anticipated. Now that he’s collected himself, he blinks his eyes open. Warmth immediately shoots up his spine and bursts into his head like a firework. 

Holly is...simply staring at him. Holding him in her eyes while she props her chin up by a hand. With her features relaxed the way they are she appears as if she’s daydreaming as she whispers, “I always wanted to meet you.”

Has his heart beat always been this deafening?

They had talked about it before, meeting one another. He understood it as nothing more than wishful thinking, mind you. Neither of them could afford the trip nor accommodate one another. 

...Y-Yet they’re here. Now. Laughing. Sharing a meal together as they had discussed so many times before. Hundreds of thousands of hours seem to come to him all at once and the rush puts his mind into a swim. How is this only coming to him now that this is indeed a reality? Was this sentiment lost to him due to being an undead?

It should be comprehended that there is a subtle yet distinct difference in knowing and understanding.

Before, as an undead, he knew he was here.

Now that he’s alive, he understands it.

He doesn’t have the words. Rather, he does, but they’re far too sentimental. Instead, Momonga leans forward with a soft smile and nod of his head. He had always wanted to meet her, too.

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *


	6. Athazagoraphobia

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse six  


\- Athazagoraphobia -

* * *

Momonga’s robes sweep the carpet as he paces the expanse of his bedroom. It is a little known fact that within Nazarick there rests another tomb. The floor to the naked eye is relatively petite with a single focus. An empty throne draped with envelopes, emails, and unanswered messages. 

And yet just as Nazarick this second tomb possesses a pyramid of layers. Beneath the throne lies a staircase to a seemingly endless labyrinth of catacombs. Upon entry of the maze, mounted to the wall, flickers a lone torch. A sole light to stumble through the dark of dust, twists, turns, traps, dead ends, he shouldn’t have gone to school that day, he doesn’t want to be alone, why did his friends leave him, what if something happens to him, is Holly going to come back?

Back and forth. There and back. To and fro. Wall to wall. Momonga haunts the catacombs of his Tomb. 

..She will come back. Yes. S-She always does. Holly is merely obtaining his world item as requested and washing away the bit of caramel that found its way into her hair. Yes. She will arrive here shortly. That is the more logical c-conclusion.

Momonga’s robes swarm forward in a flutter as he pauses without warning. His heart races. Changing trajectory to his bed, the dull nubs of his nails bite at the twisted column of the frame as he leans forward to catch his breath. 

None of the other guardians aside from Demiurge are to know of this situation. Fortunately, it seems his aura as a supreme being is absent to them. This simplifies things considerably. In contrast, complications are bound to arrive in rapid succession should Antithesis keep him human for much longer.

Thirteen hours. 

Cold sweat dampens the small of his back, neck, and thighs. 

It is nearly the next day. 

He needs to formulate a temporary solution. A means of assuring him more time. Momonga closes his eyes. Time. Is this merely a case of time dilation between the properties of Yggdrasil and how those rules affect him in this world? Will three hours be three days, three weeks, three years?!

No. He can not allow himself to think in such a manner right now.

Three days. Three days are a manageable timetable. 

Momonga centers himself with a deep, albeit shaky breath. Delegations are in order. Starting from the top, he will have Holly hold a meeting with the guardians where she shall explain that the both of them will be away from Nazarick to handle diplomatic affairs with the surrounding kingdoms.

Naturally, Albedo and Demiurge will present an affront to this. Holly will merely have to put her foot down, which should aid in her leadership qualities, or rather, lack thereof. While Holly is wonderful with the guardians one on one, her directorial skills are soft. This experience will prove valuable to her growth. Uwah. At least there is some good to come of this.

Furthermore, the lack of his presence may demonstrate to the guardians that her words are already in effect and this is a courtesy debriefing rather than an announcement. Yes! That is a splendid way to view the situation. Most excellent. 

In viewing Nazarick as a game of Chess, Albedo and Demiurge will be his strategic pieces. The Bishops. As they already understand his responsibilities to Nazarick, having come up with the majority of them in the _first_ place, they will share them for the following days to come. Hm. He needs to make certain to inform Holly that Demiurge should be the one to handle all affairs outside of Nazarick and not Albedo.

Uwah. _Albedo._ Perhaps she should be kept busy so as not to lament his absence. In remedy of this, Albedo will be assigned to that stack of financial reports he has been neglecting from the recent establishment of the Sorcerer Kingdom. All to do with stocks, revenues, and allocation of resources. While finished, the documents are...in desperate need of organization. 

If nothing else, that will keep her distracted. 

Momonga releases an exhale. Next are his Knights, Cocytus and Shalltear. For obvious reasons, Cocytus will be the one to manage affairs with the Lizard men and Carne village in Holly’s absence. On the other hand, Shalltear will find herself stationed at the Monument of Ruin and stepping in temporarily for Holly to oversee it’s expansion. On the whole, this is simply busy work. Busy minds lack the time to consider the immediacy of their rulers departure, after all. 

As for his Rooks, Aura and Mare, they will remain at Nazarick and continue their education with Titus. Their day to day activities are to be uninterrupted. This is mutually advantageous. To begin with, one would see that they are simply uninfluenced by the outcome of this circumstance and are carrying on with their schooling. On the contrary, their placement is his most strategic out of all the guardians.

Should a possible offense possess the gall to stage an assault on Nazarick, the twins will be present. His true intention for them is to remain hidden under the guise of their education. They are quite possibly the least obvious among his choices for defense, thus making them the strongest for the cause.

If he prides himself in anything, it’s the art of subterfuge. 

Another shaky exhale. Sliding his palm from the bedpost, he leaves a slick print of his hand behind as he shifts to pace once again. Outside of his pawns which will resume their normal activities as to not arise suspicion, there are two pieces that remain to be considered.

Pandora’s Actor. His checker in a game of Chess. Should all else fail, Pandora’s Actor shall assume his form until Antithesis relieves him of his humanity. As a consequence of this, Pandora’s Actor must be informe--...

...Momonga’s chest tightens. His pacing increases in speed, robes dusting the floor in his wake.

Demiurge and Pandora’s Actor. No one else. 

Save for his final piece, the Queen. 

Back and forth. There and back. To and fro. Left to right. Faster and faster until he braces himself against the wall, sweat pouring down his back as he squeezes his eyes shut. His head falls forward to knock against the wall. Soft exasperated breaths put a tremble to his stance.

What is taking her so long? S-She should be back by now. 

Blinking his eyes open, he throws his stare over a shoulder to check the time. His vision blurs before he can gather an accurate read of the clock hands. Fifteen minutes. Is that enough time for a shower? Yes. No. She’s not coming back. This is the day she doesn’t log in. Statistics dictate that she will leave. Everyone eventually leaves.

Silence curls in his ears. His heart beat is _everywhere_. Finger tips. Head. Shoulder blades. Calf muscles. Wave after wave of chills crawl underneath his skin. There were many ways in which he could have performed his duties as Guild Leader more effectively. He should have planned more events. He could have worked harder. Sent more emails. Encouraged the weekly meetings with more than a generalized reminder. Prevented Tyrannica's departure.

Momonga’s forehead slides down the wall as his posture deflates. They never should have made him Guild Leader. His friends left due to his failure to keep Yggdrasil interesting. While he is perfectly capable of understanding their livelihoods outside of the game…Why did they all have to leave? 

H-He’s the only common denominator. The logical conclusion.

Holly’s not coming.

Cold sweat drops from his face. Momonga’s breathing accelerates. 

It should be known that there’s another Tomb that resides within Nazarick. 

..And all he wants is to do is escape. 

* * *

  
  
Amethyst flames flickering from the lantern beside his door dance along the walls. Every second that creeps by is accompanied by the ticking of a clock. 

The air grows thin. Light blooms from the middle of Momonga’s room as Holly steps in through the activation of her guild ring. Red throbs from the sphere cloaked in a silk cloth within her arms as she shifts its weight. 

S-She’s back. 

Momonga peeks up from under the hood of his robes. Shame infuses a sour note to his throat as he swallows. His eyes meet the clock before locking onto Holly’s. Thirty six minutes. Perhaps he allowed for himself to get the best of him in this instance.

All of Holly’s blues and reds shimmer with rich shades of purple from the blush cast by his world item. His cheeks warm as her eyes soften. Streams of water trickle down her face, neck, and arms. Her customary cloud of hair now spills over her shoulders in rivers that nearly tickle the floor. 

He’s never seen her with her hair wet before. I-It is a nice appearance for her. Mermaid comes to mind, once again.

Holly leaves a trail of watery footprints in her path as she glides forward. Not once does she take her eyes off of his.

“Momonga,” Holly pronounces his name with an air of caution behind it. Settling onto her knees before him, she leans in with a nervous laugh as she whispers, “You look like shit if shit could take a shit. Are..are you okay?”

Ah, right. Suppose he does come across rather unsavory at the moment. Sliding his back up the wall to improve his posture, he finds deception to be his best course of action. “Yes! Yes, ahem. I am quite alright. Do not concern yourself for my sake. I am simply grappling with the adjustment of my new, rather, err, old self it seems.”

Well. That’s not _entirely_ dishonest.

Holly’s eyes fail to hide their suspicion as she sinks her gaze into his. Nevertheless, she gives in with a sigh that tucks her shoulders forward. “You look really tired.”

“Exhausted,” Momonga shakes his head. Regardless of his well being, there are other matters to attend to. “Might I see that, then?”

Holly clutches his world item. “H-How about tomorrow? It’s not goin’ anywhere. That and..it’s been a really long day. You gotta trust me when I say that you really look like you could use some sleep.”

She’s correct. The opportunity to blanket his mind with the calm of rest sounds heavenly. Conversely, there’s too much at stake for him to sit idly. “No. We need to test whethe--”

“I’m not giving this to you,” Holly’s face darkens. “No.”

He nearly chuckles. This is new. “Tell me, why are you being so adamant about this?”

“Because you’re not the only one that’s scared right now.”

...Perceptive.

“Very well then,” The sigh he releases is more relief than irritation. “Understand that three is my limit, however.”

“Ya know, you might wanna crunch a few numbers and lower that bar you’ve set.”

“Hah! Indeed. I will be certain to get back to you on that,” Exhaustion tickles the roof of his mouth with a yawn. “First thing in the morning.”

Droplets of dew from her earlier shower dot her cheeks, scales, and neckline as she breathes, “Kay.”

Soft. She looks so soft right now. 

His heart flutters. Whatever words he had for her died on their way up to his lips. For this reason, he merely dips his head into a nod.

Standing herself back up, Holly carries Momonga’s world item over to his bedside table. Specks of air distort around the sphere as it hums with energy. With the upturn of a hand, Holly summons a three prong wooden base to secure it. Once placed, she folds and tucks the cloth that swaddled the globe inside the drawer. 

From another wave of Holly’s hand the fire from his wall lantern is whisked away. All that remains to warm the dark is the hush of red undulating from his nightstand. 

Swinging himself free of his robes, Momonga drapes them over the edge of his bed before taking his place beside Holly. Electricity from within the world item follows his fingertip as he traces the circumference of the globe. Momonga releases a sigh. “Once again, you have my gratitude.”

“Don’t mention it,” Holly tugs back Momonga’s comforter. “Get some rest. We’ll test stuff out and talk more when we see each other in the morning, kay?”

His lungs constrict as he squeezes out a breath. Ah…hah. Right. How foolish of him. W-Why would she keep with him for the night? Momonga stares towards the wall. “Yes.”

Would she see him as an indecent deviant if he requested that she remain here? S-Something very well could happen, given his fragility. No. That is impolite. This situation has been far enough of an inconvenience as it is. 

Momonga’s eyes fall to the ground. Yet…

“Goodnight?” Holly’s tail brushes against his ankle.

A flinch, and then he forces himself to look at her with a smile. “G-Goodnight, Holly.”

Something begins to carve a chasm in his chest as she turns to walk away. His heart beat throbs hollow. Fixating on the clock, Momonga studies the hands as they tick. Eight hours is the average sleeping schedule, correct? E-Eight hours. Yes. Eight hours. She'll be back in eight hours. Eight hours. 

Eight hours. Seven hours and fifty nine minutes.

Momonga closes his eyes.

...This is going to be a long night. 

Momonga’s eyes dart open as Holly’s hair slaps against his arm. Her pupils are blown as she rasps, “Can I stay with you?”

Breathless.

His answer is breathless. “Yes. I-I would like that.”

* * *

♫♭♫ [Mind is a prison ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hmw2E7bKJeo&list=PLpxaq1_99kwKIEftCdtq7VqU3gHSMloC7&index=12) ♫♭♫

𝒜𝓁𝑒𝒸 𝐵𝑒𝓃𝒿𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓃

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Tyrannica is my husband LurkingEvil's original character from his story [ Voracity ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008861/chapters/49964042). This story is written from the perspective of the player that Touch Me drove away back when Ainz Ooal Gown was Nine's Own Goal. Be sure to check his story out! As always, my husband is my idol and one day I hope to paint with words the way he so eloquently does. ♥


	7. Flamekeeper

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse seven  


\- Flamekeeper -

* * *

Sometime during the night he must have excused himself from his comforter. Chills race through Momonga’s blood in waves as he curls into himself for warmth. His nose drips. Ice bites at the tips of his fingers and toes. As a tomb, Nazarick naturally possesses an inherent cold to its atmosphere. This was lost to him as an undead. On the contrary, as a human it is something he has found and right now he finds it to be quite unpleasant. 

Shivers lend a dull chatter to his teeth as he fumbles about for his comforter. As soon as his fingers brush against his sheets he curls them into his hand and covers himself once again. A whimper of approval breaks his lips open as he buries his face in them. Soft. Thin strands of silk. Mm. As always he appreciates the lengths the maids have gone to in order to assure his comfort, albeit unnecessary.

Particularly, he is fond of the scents they spritz upon his linens. Jasmine and honeysuckle. However, it seems they have switched up their routine and went with something different for a change. Not that he minds, of course. No, this new blend is rather lovely. His eyelids flutter as he breathes. Bubble bath and roses. Mm.

Fingers threading through the sheets, he collects more of them into his arms to fully immerse himself. With the promise of sleep on the horizon, he stills as he coasts the line of what dreams may come. 

Silence.

Seconds, to minutes, to hours trickle by. 

Dreams leave him at peace within the solitude of their absence until consciousness reclaims him.

A yawn tickles his throat with crisp, cool air as he spreads his mouth wide to accommodate the action. Momonga stretches with a groan as his neck cracks with a pop. What...what time is it? As he attempts to rub at his eyes weight deadens his arm. Resistance meets him while he strives to tug himself free once more. 

With a grunt, he turns his attention to his arm. Uwah. His bed sheets are _everywhere_. Vision still coming to him as he adjusts to the dark, Momonga swings his hand over to brush away his sheets. Upon disturbance, a thick waft of roses drench his senses. A shiver tingles down his spine. The fragrance sticks to his nose and infuses his every breath. It’s rather sweet, like sugared velvet swathed in oil.

Highly reminiscent of the carved soaps in Holly’s en suite. Ah, he rather enjoys this perfume. Perhaps he should request that the maids apply it from this point on?

Another yawn. He sweeps away the hair that--....

He forsakes breathing as his body seizes. 

Hair. Roses.

…

Momonga’s heart clenches with each throbbing second.

Warm puffs of air kiss his forearm with every rise and fall of Holly’s chest. Allowing himself to openly stare, his eyes soften as he gazes upon her curled up and cuddling around his arm. His fingers twitch. Holly’s lips part with a tender mewl before she smooshes a cheek against his bicep.

With a gulp, he moves his attention to the ocean of ringlets strewn all along his body. Spilling over his waist. Shimmering by aid of his world item as they spiral his chest. Tickling his throat. Sifting through his fingers. Collecting in pools of red and blue around his shoulders.

He doesn’t know what to do. 

Momonga’s heart punches his ear drums. Questions begin to rapid fire assault his mind. 

Why is she..?! Err, rather, when?! Is this appropriate?! Should he…?! 

...Can he? Would she reciprocate? 

No. This is highly unorthodox. A m-misconception, rather, misunderstanding. Surely? R-Right?

But...S-She is so warm. Soft.

Another tender sound escapes her lips. A whimper catches in his throat. That is positively not fair. Nevertheless, a smile tickles Momonga’s face as he watches her sleep. How her nose occasionally twitches. The predictability of her breathing pattern. How her eyelids flutter.

Is she dreaming? Rather, what is she dreaming of?

His blood rushes. Has she ever dreamed of him?

Sentiment fosters a glow in his heart as he idly tangles his fingers through her hair. He...he has always wanted to hold a woman. The opportunity simply never came to him. Typical of a salary man who did nothing more than work and play Yggdrasil, mind you. In spite of it all..

He just wants to allow himself to enjoy this for what it is.

Making certain that he’s mindful of her hair, Momonga shifts to his side. Holly mumbles something incoherent which puts a pregnant pause into the hand wishing to wrap around her. Momonga closes his eyes. What is it that he believes he’s doing? What are the chances of this upsetting her? 

Momonga pulls his hand back. Will she laugh at him?

Beseeching his mind for comfort, he immerses himself in the memory of when Holly hid in his robes and sobbed after he won his battle against Shalltear. He had underestimated the emotional impact that would have on her.

_“I thought...I thought I was going to lose you.” Tears fell from her eyes as she balled up his robes._

Ah, yes. Those..those were her words, weren’t they.

_“I don’t want to lose you to nothing.”_

Releasing a muted breath, Momonga curls an arm around Holly’s waist. Has he ever revealed to her what she means to him? Does she know his regard for her? 

Holly rolls into Momonga’s chest with a whimper as he pulls her close. As if she were sand, she adjusts accordingly and it nearly steals his breath away as she snakes her arms around him. With a grit of his teeth while he squeezes his eyes shut, he buries his face between her horns. 

He had told her that he was unaware of the fear he could experience in this world as an undead until he nearly lost her in E-Rantel. Momonga crosses his arms across Holly’s back and holds her impossibly tighter. On that day, he knew the fear.

Tonight, he understands it.

* * *

Pressure binds Momonga’s ankle in a tight squeeze and forces him awake. Licking his lips, he produces a displeased grunt as hair sticks to his tongue. Not pleasant. Uwah. It’s between his teeth, too.

“...U-Um..” Warm breath seeps through his shirt.

Oh. Oh! That’s right?! Err!? Momonga steals a glance towards his chest. His cheeks flame as Holly’s eyes pop up to his.

“I’m sorry!” Holly squeaks. 

“Holly! My apologies! For you s-see, rather, I-I! Understand I did not, please, I--”

“No! No, it’s okay! I didn’t, I mean, ya know, I just, it’s cold and I--”

“Yes! I-It is rather chilly!”

A pained expression creeps up over Holly’s face as she peels away from Momonga’s chest. “...I uh, yeahh. I kinda..”

Silence.

“..I’msorryIdrooledonyousome.”

She did? Momonga glances towards his shirt. Ah. Yes, indeed she did. In response, he merely chuckles. “It is quite alright. I do not mind.”

A sweet smile dawns on Holly’s lips as she glances away. “You uh, sleep okay?”

“Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact I did,” Momonga gulps. “And you?”

“Yeah! I..I mean,” Holly snickers. “You could say I slept like the dead.”

That was awful.

The stress squeezing his ankle subsides as Holly’s tail releases him. Giving Momonga a look and a coy smile, Holly slides her hands from his back and begins to collect her hair. Similarly, Momonga reciprocates the action and withdraws his arms from her waist.

Momonga’s heart pumps warm shot after warm shot of adoration through his veins. That was...nice. Most unfortunately, he already misses the presence of her in his arms. Would she ever be so inclined to do that with him again?

Holly clicks her tongue with a yawn as she folds her legs beneath herself. Shaking her hands in her hair, she allows for it all to spill forward as she makes herself comfortable.

…She looks like--No. Momonga stifles a laugh. That is rude. He should refrain from poking fun at her.

Momonga scratches his neck as he rumbles with a poorly bitten back chuckle. “Tell me, do you mind if I point something out to you?”

Holly’s expression falls flat. “I know. I look like a bush with a face in the morning.”

How did she know?! Momonga laughs. “You’re aware?!”

“The ones from Jotunheim, right?” 

More laughter. “Precisely!” 

“Ugh! Yeah! I know!” Holly’s tail strikes the bed as she laughs. Truth be told, a part of him is anticipating a plague dwarf to pop out of her hair at any given moment. The resemblance to that mob spawn is hilariously uncanny.

In all seriousness, he could lose himself to reminiscing with her like this for hours. Hah! Come to think of it, he would quite like to revisit a few memories with her. In particular...Ah. Other matters undoubtedly must come first. Releasing his exhale, Momonga glances over his shoulder and towards his nightstand. Red throbs from his world item as it pulsates with energy. 

It is relatively simple. Considering Yggdrasil’s mechanics and how they seemingly correlate to this new world, despite his change in appearance, Antithesis should not be capable of revoking him of items that were specifically coded to him.

Particularly, his world item and the staff of Ainz Ooal Gown. In theory, if he can equip his world item the guild staff should follow the same principles.

Or so he hopes. 

With a sense of care, Momonga palms his world item and sets it into his lap. Uwah. Has this always been so heavy? As a human, this is more akin to cradling a dragon's egg rather than what once hovered within his rib cage.

Holly scoots closer. “Do you know what you’re doin?”

“Mmm,” Momonga hums. “We will find out soon enough.”

Momonga closes his eyes as he hovers his palms along the gloss of his world item.

He has always had an affinity for magic. A calling. Whispers in his ears that drove him to select characters and builds within video games best optimized within the range of sorcery. Wizardry. Arcana. _Magic._

Lightning. Fire. Life and death. The illusion of time and manipulation of reality. Seven hundred spells and the thousands of hours that went behind the intimacy of their mastery. For twelve years he lived within Yggdrasil as a sorcerer. Necromancer. Elder lich. An Overlord. 

And at the end, when it was all said and done, Yggdrasil was meant to come to a close.

Yet here he is. 

He has always had an affinity for magic. 

“Well wouldja look at that,” Holly muses. “Look at you go, big guy.”

“Hm?” Momonga blinks his eyes open. A smile immediately follows as streams of red mist pull between his palms and the now floating world item. Flexing his hands, his smile only grows wider as forks of lightning hiss from his fingertips as the bolts arc towards the sphere.

“Astounding!” Momonga barks a laugh. “Do you see this now?”

Holly smirks. “Show off.”

“This was merely a test, Holly,” Hm. It should be as simple as...with a wave of his hand and a thought, the world item floats over his shoulder and returns to its stand. “Now that, that is showing off.”

Most excellent. The look that has taken her face is positively priceless. “Pffft! Oh yeah? Watch this!”

Oh no.

Before he can warn her name, Holly lurches forward. Emerald flames leak from her eyes as she snaps a hand forward and calls a column of fire up from beneath his wall lantern. _Fwoom!_ The lamp pops into a shatter from the heat. A scorch mark sizzles below as the shards of glass clink to the ground.

Holly’s face screws up as she stares at the spot. 

“Control your excitement,” Momonga chuckles. “Remember that what you put into your spell is what you will receive from it.”

Tucking her head between her shoulders, Holly mutters, “M-My bad.”

Mmm. While far from the woman who struggled to teleport months ago, she still has a long road ahead of her. At the very least, he takes pride in her ability to now summon magic at a moment's notice without noticeable discourse. In contrast, her absence of restraint is a matter for concern.

Oddly enough, that is a quality he finds quite endearing about Holly. As always, what she lacks in experience she makes up for in enthusiasm. A smile whisks across his lips as she crosses her arms with a pout.

Fire has always suited her well.

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Oh man. I got all up in my feels at the end of the first part of this chapter. 
> 
> Bush with a face. 


	8. Integrity

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse eight  


\- Integrity -

* * *

Separating her hair into sections, Holly grimaces as she fights a comb through her curls while Momonga paces. To make matters worse, it appears that she is not fond of his methods to come concerning the guardians and his humanity.

Nevertheless, he anticipated this. Tugging at his robes in adjustment, Momonga sighs, “Tell me, what would you do in my stead?”

“Look,” Holly warns. “I get it. I do. But you gotta take a look at how Demiurge reacted. If _Demiurge_ of all of them didn’t give a shit, neither will the others.”

Momonga scoffs. “His original intention was to have me interrogated. While he subsequently retracted his objective once he put together who I was, we can not be so sure that the rest will act accordingly.”

“You don’t know that they won’t, though?”

“By way of contrast, you do not know if they will. Understand those are odds that I am not willing to take.”

Holly rolls her eyes. She sets down her comb. “Alright big guy. Let me run this by you. What happens if within these next few days you don’t turn back? Huh? How long do you wanna keep this up?”

A growl catches in Momonga’s throat. He _knew_ she was going to present that case sooner or later. “I am taking this one step at a time. While I appreciate the logic behind your sentiments, know that I will not budge on this. My instructions still stand true. Have I made myself clear?”

Holly sneers before throwing her gaze to the ground. “...Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

Without another word, Holly pushes herself up off of Momonga’s bed. She keeps her eyes glued to the floor as she gathers up a few busted combs and snapped hair ties. Mm. She is upset. Regardless, she will simply have to get over the matter. This is what is best, after all. Her method is a gamble and she is reasoning from a point of privilege. Hopefully within the next few hours she will come to this understanding and agree with him.

Once finished with her task, Holly shuffles towards the door. Momonga’s shoulders tighten. Where is she headed?

“Holly?”

Holly’s tail twitches before fitting between her legs. She still won’t look at him. “Yeah.”

It was never his intention to upset her. Why is she taking this so personally? 

Momonga wipes away the sweat beginning to dampen the hood of his robes. “Might I ask where you are headed off to in such a hurry?”

She's still refusing to look at him. “The treasury.”

Ah, right. They are rather close, her and Pandora's Actor. Momonga squares his chest. “Very well, then. As you are aware, I need to insist upon asking that you not--”

“I won’t say anything.” Holly disappears in a flash of light.

…

Throwing a hand to the nape of his neck, Momonga balls up the hood of his robes before yanking them over his head and slamming them to the ground. Damn it! _Thud. Thud. Thud._ His heart beat is knocking around inside of his head. Releasing a shaky exhale, Momonga closes his eyes. He needs to calm down. This is uncanny behavior. Stress does typically bring out the worst in him. Another sigh. As his posture wilts he fetches his robes, slips into his en suite, and begins to undress. He needs to take a shower. 

A shower will help.

* * *

Steam fogs his bathroom mirror as it breathes through the air. Perspiration dots the frosted glass of his shower. With his forehead against the tile, Momonga keeps his eyes shut as the water beats down on his back. The heat stings, scalding him red, but it is a welcomed pain. Strange as it seems, it is quite nice to feel something other than static for a change. 

In contrast, death is a more suitable alternative to heartache. 

It is not that he does not respect Holly’s sentiments. On the contrary, her rationality admirably challenges his own. She made for a strong case. Regardless, how can she not see her presentation as anything but a wager? He has worked entirely too hard to keep the guardians view of him as nothing less than their superior. For this reason, even if they do accept him as he is now, this situation will surely lower their regard for him.

Momonga’s nostrils flare as he releases his exhale. All it takes is for one mistake such as this to seed resentment. One crack in a castle of glass. In order to be an effective leader, one must hold the highest of caliber in their resolve. Case in point, this is why it is often shown through history that the finest authorities lead by example.

Napoleon Bonaparte. Isoroku Yamamoto. Alexander the Great. Joan of Arc. All shining examples of this sentiment. On the contrary, would they have been as successful should they have failed to keep the morale of their subjects in check?

No.

This is why it is best that the guardians remain ignorant of his humanity. 

Momonga grits his teeth. Beads of sweat drop from his nose. Three days--No, two days. Two weeks and six days. One thousand and ninety four days. 

He needs to formulate a contingency plan. Hm. While away from Nazarick, he very well could associate himself under the pretense of a Noble from a kingdom he and Holly just so happen to strike and alliance with? Uwah. The level of intricacy in strategy that would be required coupled with keeping up with all of the information necessary is already making him nauseous..

No. Something simple. Less is indeed more in this instance. 

The faucet whines with a creak as the water slows to a drip from the spigot. Collections of bubbles and soap suds circle the drain. Streams of residual water trickle in rivers down his thighs. Trading places with his forehead, Momonga planks his back against the cool of the tile. His head drops forward with an exasperated sigh. As an undead, he was capable of racing with his thoughts.

Unfortunately, the same can not be said for him in his current state. He needs to give himself a break. Blinking his eyes open, his vision tunnels before coming back to him. Momonga steadies himself with a few controlled breaths. In for five seconds. Hold. Release for five seconds.

With a little less fuzz pervading his mind, Momonga steps out of the shower to retrieve a towel before yelping and darting back inside. Heart lodged in his throat, Momonga scrambles to secure his towel around his waist as he chokes out, “Holly! What, rather or why, how, when, err?! When did you, why, ho-how long have you been there?!”

What is she doing in his bathroom?! Uwah, worse yet, he shrieks like a girl! Momonga bites back a whimper as his body temperature begins to boil. Did she see anything?! This is awful!

Why isn’t she answering him?!

Momonga swings his head out of the shower with a scowl. “Do you mind?! I would very much so appreciate a bit of privacy whe--....” 

With her back against the wall, Holly walks her feet closer to herself as she holds her knees to her chest. Her tail gives a twitch as it snakes around her ankles. Just before her eyes float up to meet him they drift back to the ground.

Something is wrong.

Careful as to not make a fool of himself, Momonga reaches a hand towards his robes and swings them over his shoulders. He forsakes his clothing, the towel and his robes are sufficient coverage. 

Water drips from his side swept hair as he steps out of the shower. Instilling a calm into his voice, he sighs, “You are upset with me.”

“Not really,” Holly continues to stare at the floor as she whispers, “I just wanna help you and I don’t know how.”

Ah. This again. Momonga loops his thumbs into the hood of his robes as he tugs them over his head. “Tell me, how was your trip to the Treasury?”

“Didn’t go to the Treasury,” Holly mumbles. “I just went back to my room for a bit.”

Mm. She is lying. The mud on her shoes is undoubtedly from the fourth floor. He can use this to his advantage. Collecting his robes, Momonga takes his seat beside Holly with an airy chuckle. “Interesting. I was unaware that you were in the process of taking up gardening as a hobby.”

“Ya know, actually? I uh,” Pink dusts Holly’s cheeks. With a snap of her fingers an emerald flame comes forth to tickle her thumb. “I do have one of these.”

That was awful. He should have seen that coming.

Momonga groans around a laugh. “You are a terrible liar, Holly.”

“...but you want me to lie for you.”

Momonga’s heart gives a dull thud of a throb. He deserved that. Allowing for his head to fall back and knock the wall, he says nothing as he stares at the ceiling. There is nothing beneficial he can add to the conversation at hand. Yes. He expects her to lie for him.

Silence.

“Just...hear me out. Think about it this way. I mean, would you rather me lie or tell you the truth? Ya know, like earlier. We both know I didn’t go to my room. Would you have respected me more if I had instead been honest with you?”

...Ah. That was clever. Clever, indeed. Momonga’s lips hint at a smile as he closes his eyes. “Was it your intent to test me?”

“Would you respect me if I lied to you and said no?”

Mm. Another one. Let’s see how she handles this. “I understand the logic behind both avenues you could have chosen to take. In saying this, I remain neutral with my opinion. You have neither gained nor lost my respect.”

“Ya know, that’s exactly how I see the guardians taking this whole humanity thing. Regardless, do you want their respect or acceptance?”

Momonga’s eyes pop open. Hah! H-He has been rubbing off on her, it seems. “Nicely done, Holly. Consider me impressed. Nevertheless, I am not comfortable revising my strategy. I still see it as reckless endangerment.”

As expected, Holly huffs a sigh. The point is moot; His decision is final. The reward does not outweigh the risk, therefore--

Momonga flinches his fingers into a tent as Holly cups his hand. His focus darts to her as she worms her fingers through his and leans against his shoulder. “...I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sucking on his teeth, Momonga glances away to give himself some room to think. Unfortunately, Holly squeezing his hand in reassurance floods his heart with sentiment that he doesn’t exactly have the strength to fight at this given point in time.

Curse you, Holly.

Momonga’s blood rushes. Against his better judgement, he curls an arm around Holly and tucks her head into the hollow of his throat. Resting his chin between her horns, he closes his eyes as he breathes, “[Message] for Pandora’s Actor. Have him bring me the staff of Ainz Ooal Gown.”

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *


	9. Reflection

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse nine  


\- Reflection -

* * *

This was a terrible idea. Uwah, it seems he is rather full of those here of late..

Nevertheless, Momonga finds himself before the mirror of remote viewing, rolling his tongue over his teeth as he grooms himself. With a sigh, he turns to the side and attempts to smooth out the wrinkles creasing his robes. It should be known that presentation is everything. This is why advertisement is a lucrative business. 

Consider the following. Why does one put stock into dressing up for an interview? Comparatively, would you place faith in a company run from home versus an enterprise with a storefront? 

Presentation is everything. Romance. Restaurants. Art. Leadership. It all requires presentation. Taking this into account, understand that if you do not present yourself as your best in these endeavors then you have failed. This is why the common phrase ‘dress for success’ is well regarded.

A pained expression colors Momonga’s face as he brushes his hair back only for it to flop forward. As Nazarick’s guild leader, he naturally views himself as a businessman. 

Momonga bites back a whimper. Since when do businessmen wear tank tops?! Worst yet still to come, these are his starter robes from Yggdrasil! While the sentiment behind Holly wearing them when they originally transferred warms his heart, the situation he is in that calls for _him_ to wear them is mortifying.

No. He does not look like a businessman.

Slumping his shoulders, Momonga tugs the hood of his robes over his head.

He looks like a troubled adolescent. 

Uwah. And it just so happens that the physical reminder that he once was an angsty teenager is coming to pay him a visit…

This.

This was a terrible idea.

Momonga sends Holly a frown. “For the record? I am not fond of this.”

“Nah, really?” Holly’s smirk pales as Momonga shakes his head and sighs. Amber light pours from the mirror of remote viewing as Holly swipes her hand across the surface to reveal a distant wheat field. 

Ah. Perhaps he is focusing entirely too muc--?!

Momonga’s hands jerk up in recoil as Holly tugs the lapels of his robes in adjustment. A wince curls at his lips as she arches a brow his way. Yes, Holly. The mannerism is odd. He is aware. It is one he wishes he could remove from himself, after all. Nevertheless, this is typical of someone who has been absent of human contact for an extended period of time.

And yet...a blush burns at his cheeks as he drops his hands and allows for her to smooth out his robes. This is.. nice. When the day's events are all said and done, would she allow for him to hold her once again?

“It’s gonna be alright,” Holly breathes. “This is nothing that you haven’t done before.”

Oh?

Momonga chuckles. “Are you attempting to soothe me with a pep talk? Is that what you are doing?”

“Maybe.”

Mm. If only it were that simple. Regardless, he appreciates the effort. “Thank you, Holly.”

“I wasn’t done, ya know.” Holly crinkles her nose.

He’s aware. If compassion were an ocean, Holly would be the rain that filled it. “Understand that the longer we procrastinate on this matter the more likely I am to change my mind.”

“Annd it looks like we’re done here,” Holly winces. With a swing of her hand, she plants two fingers upon her temple. “You ready for him?”

No.

Holly fires Momonga a dirty look as he fails to stifle his groan. As a result of this, Momonga belts out a sigh before giving himself some distance.

Relatively speaking? This engagement should go smoothly. With the cast of [Divine intervention] out of the way, he won’t fall victim to his own [Fear Aura] exuded by Pandora’s Actor. Hah. The uncanny irony is admittedly a tad amusing.

Another sigh. Squaring his shoulders, Momonga folds his arms behind his back. Uwah. He can at the very least maintain the posture of a leader. Surely that will offset his less than desirable attire for this proceeding?

One can only hope. In any case, what will his creation think of him? Despite Pandora’s Actor’s gaudy disposition, he is an infallible resource to Nazarick with intellect rivaling that of the seventh floor guardian. With this in mind, knowing the reasoning behind his circumstances, will Pandora’s Actor see him as a fool?

Momonga fights down his discomfort by bringing his feet together. Wonderful. He and his creation can be fools together.

...Hm. Would suicide return him to his former state? Is that a viable alternative?

From the middle of the room a tear in reality collapses to melt in a dark nebula. The [Gate] shudders with a ripple of stars before the guild staff of Ainz Ooal Gown slips through followed by a curtain of familiar academic robes. Releasing the guild staff to the side of the mirror of remote viewing, Pandora’s Actor banishes the [Gate] with a snap of his hand all while Momonga’s brain stutters into a short circuit.

It is surreal, seeing himself this way. Hah! Is it any wonder why his name is feared among the surrounding kingdoms? Reputation aside, his appearance alone speaks that he is indeed a master of death. As it should. After all, years were spent perfecting the nuances behind assuring that the bonuses attributed to his cosmetics lined up accordingly with his stats. 

Everything had a purpose. Nothing was wasted. That is how in a game of endless choices he chose to play. How Ainz Ooal Gown chose to play.

Yes. He did quite well for himself.

Momonga’s posture falters.

They...they all did quite well for themselves.

Crashing down to a knee, Pandora’s Actor throws his arms wide and sings, “Geliebte! As requested, the wondrous, haha! Nein! The infallible beauty that is the stupendous guild staff of Ainz! Ooal! Gown! has been retrieved. Feast thine eyes, my love! The glittering jewels! The twisted serpents of gold! Ah, ja, so very lovely, lovely indeed! And yet, might I declare that it unequivocally pales in comparison to the crown jewel that stands before me.”

…This was a terrible idea.

“It’s good to see you too,” Holly giggles. “Thanks, by the way. I’d have gotten it myself, but uh, ya know.”

Pandora’s Actor chuckles. “Gratitude is unnecessary, Winterberry. Why, it should be understood that I view this as a treasure in and of itself to aid you in your plight! Now then, without further delay, may I ask how you have been fairing as of late? Ohhh, how I have missed your presence so!”

“Pandora. It’s only been two days.”

“Fifty six hours, forty two minutes, and twenty three, nein! Twenty four horrible seconds and counting! And what a terrible time it has been without you near, Schätzchen.”

Holly’s cheeks darken as she glances between Momonga and Pandora’s Actor. With a smile creeping over her lips, she leans into Pandora’s Actor and whispers, “I missed you too.”

Momonga’s nostrils flare as he turns his attention away. Come now, Holly. This is uncomfortable enough as it is. 

...Just what does she see in his creation, any who? He’s so...much. Too much, in fact. Uwah.

Clearing her throat, Holly scratches at her neck as she sighs, “I-In any case, we actually kinda maybe sorta need to talk about how I’ve been doing.”

“You see, uhhh…” With a cheesy grin, Holly delivers several glances between Momonga and Pandora’s Actor. 

Ah, yes. A sequel to that novel he was wishing to write seems to be in order. Dub this volume:  Holly Leonhardt. Connotations and how NOT to implement them. 

“But of course! I--.....” Quiet befalls his creation as Pandora’s Actor directs his interest to hover over Momonga. Vaporous red magic flares from his eye sockets as Pandora’s Actor gathers himself up from bended knee. 

Silence.

“Pandora,” Holly warns.

In spite of his immunity to [Fear] at the moment, something cold and slippery shudders down Momonga’s spine as Pandora’s Actor _thunks_ a foot forward. Astounding. If it is Pandora’s Actor’s desire to intimidate him he has certainly succeeded. Hah! Is this what he himself instills unto others? Undeniably so. Proof stands before him in the reflection of his former self.

Nevertheless, Momonga steadies himself with the fill of his lungs. Back straight. Posture uncompromising. Expression neutral, yet his eyes he keeps locked on his creations. 

Will Pandora’s Actor recognize him? Although scarce, the pieces to this puzzle are available should he recognize them. 

Casting his arm to the side with a throw of his robes, Pandora’s Actor rearranges his form as he marches forward. Flesh crawls over his bones while all of his dark colors bleed back to his uniform. Stomping his boots upon arrival, Pandora’s Actor lurches forward and shoves his face into Momonga’s. Forehead to forehead. Nose to the smooth center of his creations' faces.

Momonga’s shoulders tense. He says nothing. No, that is incorrect. He says everything as he stares into the hollow of Pandora’s Actor’s eyes.

Silence.

“...Lord Ainz?”

Well done. “Pandora’s Actor.”

“Haha! My glorious creator!” Pandora’s Actor roars with laughter. “My liege! Perfection in the flesh! Why, has there ever existed a gentleman as handsome as you!? I think not! Magnificent! The way in which your luscious chestnut hair frames your elegant face quells the heart you so generously gifted me! Wunderbar! Ahh, Lord Ainz! And your eyes!”

Holly snorts with laughter.

“Pandora’s Actor.”

“Jaja, My Lord?!”

“Kindly put me down.” 

“Oh, I-I, err, jaja! At once, Lord Ainz!” Having scooped up Momonga beneath the arms and thrust him high in the air as a prize he had won, Pandora’s Actor sets Momonga back on his feet. Without prompting, Pandora’s Actor dusts Momonga’s shoulders and pats down his robes in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles.

Yes, Pandora’s Actor. The robes are awful and have a knack for creasing. Thank you for noticing.

Face taken with a grimace, Momonga encourages Pandora's Actor away. As expected, that was needlessly uncomfortable. To make matters worse, Holly is still giggling…

Nevertheless, he is impressed. Pandora’s Actor’s deduction skills are sharper than he had anticipated. In contrast, the salute he is receiving at the moment is worthy of a scowl. Uwah, how many times does he have to request Pandora’s Actor to stop doing that?

“Lord Ainz, if I may?”

Mm. And so it begins. “Yes. Please, feel free to speak your mind.”

“Your current apparel is absolutely dreadful and does not suit one with esteem such as yourself, My Lord. It is below you. Therefore! I must request that you gift me permission to fabricate for you an ensemble more appropriate to the regard you so rightfully possess.”

Wait, his clothes of all things to be considered?! Momonga barks a laugh. “Hah! Really now? Very well. Permission granted. In fact, I would greatly appreciate that. A suit, if you would.”

Swinging an arm behind his back with the throw of his coat, Pandora exclaims, “Wunderbar! Danke dir, my liege. Rest assured that I shall not disappoint you!”

Momonga swallows the groan stuck in his throat. _German._ He takes a moment to send Holly a glare. In the exchange he receives a dance of her eyebrows and a smile. Curse you, Holly. She undoubtedly encourages the behaviors in Pandora’s Actor that he’d rather never have been there in the first place. 

Never mind that, for now. Pandora’s Actor’s flamboyance is the least of his problems. 

“Tell me, is there anything else you wish to discuss?” Why has he yet to address the obvious?

“Indeed, indeed there is a matter of which I desire to approach with you,” Momonga flinches as Pandora’s Actor grips his shoulder. “Under what pretext did you find it necessary to take advantage of Antithesis? In speaking my case, let it be known that I merely wish to understand your reasoning rather than question it.”

Mm. There it is. The clothes were merely an ice breaker. “For the time bein--”

“It was my fault,” Holly pipes up. Tail dragging against the carpet, she shuffles into place beside Momonga as she sighs, “I..I put him in a shitty position and--”

“No. Antithesis was my decision--”

“But--”

Pandora’s Actor clasps a hand upon Holly’s shoulder. Gripping both Momonga and Holly, he sighs, “Ah, I see. Rest assured that I require no further assessment of the situation. Rather, I only wish to offer my assistance to the best of my capabilities!”

Face eaten away with guilt, Holly winces a smile at Momonga. In return, his eyes soften. This is..most unfortunate. Why does she believe this to be her fault? For instigating under the sincerity of her concern? No.

Pandora's Actor clears his throat.

“Lord Ainz,” Another grip of the shoulder. “As a doppelganger, I am capable of withstanding the emotional trepidation that obscures my mind when blurring the reality of life and death. By way of contrast, I must warn you that I fear that you will suffer where I do not.”

...Mm.

Momonga allows for his focus to drift to the floor. Yes. Pandora’s Actor is correct. He is already fully aware of the backlog of emotional residue greasing his mind. On the contrary, the case of his state of mind holds little to no merit for the time being. At this moment in particular, what matters is formulating a strategy on how to handle this circumstance with the floor guardians.

His issues are of little concern; They will fade soon enough.

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Kindly put me down.


	10. If truth had a face

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse ten  


\- If truth had a face -

* * *

Black, red, and golden spools of yarn orbit Pandora’s Actor’s hand while he weaves his fingertips around a data crystal sizzling with white fire. Tapping a boot while he works, Pandora’s Actor hums to himself as he pulls on the threads with his mind, commanding the strings to follow the pattern of his fingertips. Glinting like slivers of moonlight, the lines of yarn criss cross in a braid as they begin to take the shape of a suit.

“Ehhhh, less red, more gold--Yeah! Yeahhh, like that!” Holly guides Pandora’s Actor’s hand along the vest. “Wait, wait, what do you think of red stitching?”

“Hm,” Momonga grasps his chin as he leans forward. He _does_ have a fondness for red. “Yes. That will work nicely. However, I would ask that the undershirt be substituted. Black on black, if you would.”

“A most excellent decision! Ah, jaja, and there we certainly do have it! Alternatively, would it tickle your fancy to adorn yourself with an originally crafted, by yours truly, fresh set of robes in compliment to this ensemble?”

A sigh of relief. Momonga pulls his robes over his head before folding them over his forearm. “Ah, indeed. Have them resemble my former robes, as it were.”

“Pfffft,” Holly shakes her head. “Change it up a bit. Go with black instead of purple, trust me.”

Momonga chuckles. “Odd. I was unaware that you were in the mood for your own vestments.”

“I--”

“Winterberry!” Pandora’s Actor belts out a gasp. “Do you truly wish for your very own garme--?!”

“Nope,” Holly cups her hand over Pandora’s Actor’s mouth. “Okay. Listen. Think about it! The reds and golds will really pop if you go with all black. Come on.”

Holly leans into Momonga with a smirk. “It’ll match your Momon armor.”

Mm.

“Lord Ainz! In addition, we shall match one another! It will be stupendous, nein! Glorious!”

..Uwah.

Holly sends a squint of her eyes to Pandora’s Actor before turning back to Momonga with a grin. Sweeping a hand before her as if she were revealing what lies behind a curtain, she goads, “Just think about what the change will say to the guardians. You could say it means that...you’re comfortable in your new skin. Eh? Ehh?”

Momonga’s face falls flat. That was awful. Nevertheless, there is merit behind the position she is taking. Hm. She is rather good with aesthetics. This sentiment is only strengthened as he recalls the effort she put into customizing her armor. Hah! How many tubes of ethereal leech blood did she utilize, again?

In conjunction, will his acceptance versus despair in his change of appearance boost the morale of the floor guardians?

Holly’s cheeks darken. “I mean, I also just think it’d look good on you. Just sayin’.”

…

A flush creeps over Momonga’s face as he sighs, “I suppose a change is in order.”

* * *

Pandora’s Actor’s singsong bravado accompanied by Holly’s laughter beat against the door to Momonga’s en suite as he undresses. With an indignant grunt, he peels off his clothes and folds them upon the counter. Good riddance. If he never has to wear those again it will not be too soon enough. 

The suit fits like a dream as he slides an arm through the blazer. Silk lining. Cut perfectly at the wrists. A form fit, yet comfortable. With a soft smile pulling at his lips, Momonga tugs at the cuffs of his suit jacket in adjustment. Gold cufflinks wink at him as he rolls his wrist and admires the subtle red stitching. 

Fantastic. He feels incredible! Come to think of it, has he ever come close to owning an article of clothing such as this? 

Mm. No. No he did not. After all, outside of Yggdrasil, the bare minimum was considered a luxury. 

In memory of his humble origins, he takes the time to give himself a final once over before returning to his bedroom to discuss how to handle the floor guardians.

Turning his back to the mirror, his boots bray as he stands himself up by the balls of his feet and has a view of himself from over the shoulder. Another smile. At first the coat tails seemed unnecessary, however now as he admires how they frame his thighs he finds them quite charming. 

With the sharp turn of his heel he faces the mirror once again. From one of his belt loops a golden chain bounces while the attached contents of his pocket shift. Although redundant, he dusts his suit jacket with the patting down of his hands, smoothing the chain connecting his collar and retrieving his pocket watch. A fine addition suggested by his creation, might he add.

Popping open the pocket watch, he focuses in on the clock hands as they tick over the guild crest of Ainz Ooal Gown. Twenty seven hours. In forty five hours, three days will have passed. Logical sequence dictates that Antithesis will work in parables of three. Yes. Three days. Forty five hours.

Three hours. Three days. Three years. Three--

No. 

Momonga closes his eyes as he stuffs the pocket watch back into his pants pocket. After taking a moment to find his center, Momonga retrieves his fresh set of robes and swings them over his shoulders. There is work to be done.

* * *

Twisted with agony, faces of smoke melt from the crown of serpents resting atop the guild staff of Ainz Ooal Gown. Screams bounce from inside each of the seven jewels clenched between the serpent's teeth. Dark red ripples along the curtain walls of Momonga’s bedroom as the guild staff hums with displaced energy. 

Momonga reaches a hand out. Upon merely wanting the guild staff to enter his grasp, it lifts from its resting place beside the mirror of remote viewing to float into the curve of his palm. A sigh of relief. Most excellent. This is undeniable proof that he indeed remains guild leader to the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. Additionally, this should serve to further prove to the floor guardians that he is still, once more, their rightful ruler.

However.

Squeaking a thumb down the sleek metallurgy of the guild staff, Momonga states, “Understand that within less than two days time I could very well return to my normal state of being. If this is true, which I am quite certain that it is, then this announcement to the floor guardians of my humanity is senseless.”

As expected, Holly rolls her eyes. Fortunately, he is spared the opinion of his creation on this matter as Pandora’s Actor ties off one of the many braids he has made of Holly’s hair with an emerald barrette. 

“Come _on_ ,” Holly belts out a sigh. “We literally just went--”

“No,” Momonga stands his ground. “I am not willing to compromise on this. Should Antithesis choose not to relieve me of this form within the next two days then we will proceed accordingly. Until that time comes, we shall wait.”

Rather than sneer at Momonga, Holly sends her distaste to the floor as she glares at the ground. Momonga closes his eyes. Yes. This is undeniably frustrating. Truth be told? Hah! He is frustrated with himself! Since when has he ever gone back on any of his decisions? 

“Lord Ainz?” As expected. Pandora’s Actor was not going to remain silent for long.

Reluctance thickens the sour taste upon his tongue. “Yes.”

“If I may?”

Momonga opens his eyes. He watches Pandora’s Actor stroke a hand down Holly’s arm before he gives in, “You may. Considering the circumstances, I implore you to speak your mind should you feel the need to do as such. My sole stipulation is that you only do so within the company present. Do you understand this?”

“Indeed I do! Haha! My non existent lips are sealed outside the glorious light of my lord and lady!”

Holly wraps her voice around a tired chuckle. “He’s good for it; I promise.”

That of which he has no doubt. Nevertheless, Momonga eyes both Holly and Pandora’s Actor wearily. “Proceed.”

“You have my eternal gratitude,” Pandora’s Actor bows his head. “Lord Ainz. It is contrary to your temperament to deal in such absolutes without further cross examination.”

“Tell me, what angle do you believe that I have failed to view this from?”

“The floor guardians, Lord Ainz. Should they come to an understanding that you willingly chose to conceal your humanity from them? No matter the justification, I believe that they shall internalize this circumstance and lament over their perceived failures. As it stands, I see this charade as performing more harm than virtue.”

Ice splinters through Momonga’s veins. “...I see.”

Momonga’s vision doubles as he considers his...new options. Wonderful. Simply wonderful. He is trapped. He has locked himself in chains and swallowed the key. Throughout the entirety of this event he has yet to consider how the floor guardians would receive his omission of information. 

Time. He needs time to think. H-He doesn’t have time to think.

“Hey,” Holly’s eyes meet Momonga’s before she turns her attention to Pandora’s Actor. “You don’t think they’d, ya know...cause he’s human and all?”

Holly’s brows furrow. “...Right?”

“The very notion in and of itself is blasphemy upon the highest order,” Pandora’s Actor scoffs. “Nein. I do not foresee a single denizen of Nazarick willingly performing an act of mutiny.”

Silence.

“...Holl--Err, Meine _dame_ Holly, should the floo--”

Holly’s expression darkens. “I don’t think he cares about titles right now.”

“Ah, of c-course,” Pandora’s Actor leans forward, shadowing Holly as his jacket flanks her arms. “Rest assured that should the absurdity of the floor guardians feared infidelity come to fruition that I vow unto you both your safety. With the forfeit of my very life, should that come to pass.”

Momonga’s knuckles whiten as he grips the guild staff. It seems he has been handed a double edged sword. As a rule, a leader should always prioritize their subordinates, for without those to rule there can be no ruler.

A revision to his previous conclusion is in order.

* * *

Columns of marbled pillars bearing the forty two crimson flags of Ainz Ooal Gown line the hall leading to the throne of kings. Blue light shimmers along the flags as they billow in a non existent wind. From the center of the ceiling glitters a chandelier with branches of lit candelabra and iron wrought bars dripping with crystals.

Momonga sighs. It was nine years ago that Tabula designed that piece for the throne room. Come to think of it, what might his old friend say about this current situation? 

A brief moment’s reprise takes Momonga’s face into a smile. Ah, right. Due to the contradictory nature behind the course of events that have led him down this path? Well.

Somewhere Tabula Smaragdina is having himself a laugh.

Holly lets out what seems to be a sigh of relief from the shadows cast by the awning of the corridor behind the throne. She takes a step forward, melting through the dark and into clear view. Two fingers brush along the scales that pepper her cheeks as she drops her hand and whispers, “Don’t worry about Demiurge, kay? He hasn’t said anything. I think he kinda figured this was something you wanted him to keep tight lipped about.”

“A blessing amidst a tide of disorder,” Momonga mutters, allowing for his head to fall back and knock against the wall. 

From out of the corner of his eye he catches the droop of Holly’s wings. Momonga’s shoulders slump as the burden of guilt weighs them down. It seems her nerves are elevated, as well. It is to his understanding that unless practicing flight, Holly only forms her wings when she deems an event critical to her role as a Supreme Being. 

Perhaps they make her feel safe? 

Momonga moves to hold Holly within his eyes. A flash of light. Polished silver armor crawls over Holly’s body as she squares her chest. Wide pauldrons with sapphire suns adorn her shoulders. Upon her breastplate shines an oak tree forged from water gems harvested on Midgard. 

Remembrance of Oak. 

…

Is she afraid?

This is unacceptable. 

“Holly,” Momonga whispers. “Come stand beside me, if you would.”

Without another word, Holly shuffles to Momonga’s left. Silence. Icy blue light pulses from between the segments of Holly’s suit of armor every few seconds as time passes. A pit draws itself into Momonga’s stomach. Uwah. He is _terrible_ at this. What words of wisdom can he offer to ease her concern?

How can he make her feel safe?

Momonga flinches as Holly’s fingers brush against his own. Before he can respond, as if she had instead touched a piping hot kettle, Holly yanks her hand away.

“S-Sorry,” Holly croaks.

“Don’t be,” Momonga responds with the hoarse staccato of a man gasping for air. “S-Sincerely.”

Momonga’s heart hammers in his chest. Is she beseeching him for that very same physical comfort he aches for himself, truly? She, err, yes. She is quite affectionate. Heat warms his blood as he recalls Holly curling her fingers around one of his own. He had nearly lost her that day, and she was so small as she wrapped her hand around his finger, fist barely covering but one of his joints. 

A tug of his robes. Holly’s voice breaks as she chuckles into a whisper, “I told you that black would look better.”

He would like to tell her one day that she reminds him of a distant star. One that shimmers like a diamond, but at times is lost among a sea of darkness. To the naked eye, she is but a speck. Too far away to consider tangible.

Yet only fools dare to call into question the might behind the power of a sun. 

Footsteps. Footsteps put a pause into his response as their dull, in tandem clicks echo along the corridor. Framed by the shadows and appearing all the darker, Demiurge’s unmistakable broad shoulders and thin waist thaw into view. 

Heat from the dark fire licking around the demon’s crisp suit distorts the air as Demiurge swings an arm behind his back. “Greetings, Lady Holly. It is time. Lord Ainz requests an audience with you and our esteemed guest before the floor guardians.”

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> How will the floor guardians react to the reveal that their undead lord is a -gasp- _human?_ Is Momonga just paranoid or does he have a right to fear his subordinates? Still to come, just how will he announce his humanity? Will his feet be able to touch the ground should he sit on the throne? _What will Albedo think?_
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	11. Vertigo

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse eleven  


\- Vertigo -

* * *

The halo of chilled light cast from the chandelier above the throne room glints across Holly’s armor.

With one arm positioned behind her back and the other resting upon the handle of her sword, Holly stands to the right of the throne of kings. Wings splayed to their full span. Tail resting with little movement behind her. Holly’s focus shifts from the floor guardians knelt before her to Pandora’s Actor, currently fulfilling the role of Lord Ainz, as he turns to face her. In response, Holly gives Pandora’s Actor a sharp nod before returning her gaze to the floor guardians.

Momonga folds his arms behind his back as he watches them perform. 

It is a rare sight to see her so stoic.

As of this moment, she reminds him of one of the two Valkyrie statues that flanked the gates to Valhalla in Asgard. 

“Now then,” Pandora’s Actor clears his throat of the thunder husking his voice. “Without further ado, I would like to bring your collective attention to my guest for the evening.”

Momonga releases a shaky exhale. That’s his cue. 

Introductions are in order. To set the bar high, Momonga throws open his robes before stepping out from the shadows of the corridor. It is crucial that he demonstrates authority while remaining humble. Confident in his posture yet modesty is what guides his footsteps forward. Balance is key. Above all else, at this moment?

He must come across as someone he himself would respect.

Momonga offers a bow to both Pandora’s Actor and Holly as he approaches the throne. Pandora’s Actor hums with approval while Holly reciprocates the gesture. Another shaky exhale. Although he has grown accustomed to the guardians eyes upon him? Well. Has their stare always beaten upon his back like this?

Momonga starts to sweat.

Pandora’s Actor lifts his bulk from the seat of the throne. A red glare edges Momonga’s frame as Pandora’s Actor hovers his gaze over him. Although [Divine intervention] is still in effect, something in Momonga slips. Color drains from his face as the sweat dotting his forehead turns cold.

This was a terribl--No. He needs to get a hold of himself. This is uncanny behavior. He is Ainz Ooal Gown. _Ainz Ooal Gown._ Guild leader to the Great Underground tomb of Nazarick.

Silence.

S-Silence.

Holly steps in front of Momonga. With a cheesy grin, she clasps her hands together and titters, “Heyyy! Introductions! Let’s do some introductions. Yeahh, that’s what we’re gonna do. Kay. Starting with Shalltear and then moving on down.”

Momonga’s knees nearly buckle. Oh, thank heavens. Holly. Holly, you beautiful moron. 

“Ah, yes! A most excellent suggestion. Thank you, Holly,” Pandora’s Actor gives Holly a gentle nod before pointing his attention to Shalltear. “Please, proceed.”

“But of course! It would be my honor, Lord Ainz,” Shalltear pinches her gown up as she dips into a curtsy. “Shalltear Bloodfallen, of the first three floors within the Great Tomb of Nazarick.”

Cocytus stamps his halberd. “I. Am. Cocytus. Guardian. Of. The. Fifth. Floor.”

“I’m Aura!” Aura throws her hand up as she signs her fingers into a V.

Mare dusts his skirt as he glances around before gulping, “Oh, and, um, I’m M-Mare. Of the, um, s-sixth floor. W-Welcome to Nazarick.”

“Indeed,” Demiurge bends his chest into a bow. “Demiurge. Guardian of the seventh floor and appointed ambassador of Nazarick. The pleasure is mine.”

“I bid you welcome, guest of Ainz Ooal Gown,” Albedo rests a hand upon her chest. “My name is Albedo. Guardian of the tenth floor and designated overseer of the floor guardians.”

Cotton fogs Momonga’s mind as the vertigo of deja-vu sweeps over him. For a moment, Momonga vision tunnels into a fisheye lens view and he half expects to find his HUD popping into focus. He..H-He went from having work at 4am in the morning that day to the guardians pledging their immortal allegiance to him. Rags to riches. Man to god. Life and death. War. Responsibility. Politics.

Momonga’s head swims. He stumbles a foot backwards and bumps into his creation. A fuzz roars in his ears as Pandora’s Actor clasps the cold hand of death upon his shoulder. 

...How did this happen. 

He has killed a fair few individuals, as you know. Culled the masses. It was necessary. Crushed a woman to death. It was necessary. Executed adventurers that were staged to invade Nazarick. It was necessary. Dueled with a kingsmen and in the victory he took the man's life. It was necessary.

H-Humanity. Holly asked him what humanity meant to him.

How...how did he let this happen?

Ha…Haha. Ha. Ha. H-Has he finally gone mad? Is this a dream? Surely this is all a dream. A means of a coping mechanism to quash his grief upon accepting Yggdrasil’s servers going offline. Yes. That is a more logical conclusion. This is a dream.

He would not have let all of this happen.

…

...He allowed for all of this to happen.

What would Touch me think of him, if his dear friend and mentor could see him now? 

W-What would his mother think of him--

Colors sharpen and Momonga sucks in a gasp through his nose as Holly shoves her hand into his. She reminds him of his place, and as she takes him into a firm handshake she stares into his eyes. “The name’s Holly. Holly Leonhardt. Second in command to the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick and right hand to Ainz Ooal Gown.”

Right hand is an understatement.

Momonga focuses his breathing on Holly’s. Timing himself with her, he breathes, staring into her eyes as he clears his mind. Once he believes himself ready, he gives her a firm nod of his head before squeezing her hand.

“I have heard nothing but great things about you, Holly,” Momonga states. “It is an honor, truly.”

_“...Why did you help me?”_

_“Ah. You reminded me of someone,” Momonga shrugged. “I was feeling a tad nostalgic.”_

Never once did he believe that a single act of kindness could have paid him off in such a way. It truly is an honor, Holly. _It truly is._

Momonga turns to give Pandora’s Actor a bow of his head. “Ainz Ooal Gown.”

“It should be known that there is only one man worthy of such a title,” Pandora’s Actor calls the guild staff to his hand from the left of the throne. Momonga swallows the cold stone lodged in his throat as Pandora’s Actor hands it to him.

The seconds that follow stretch as Momonga curls his fingers around the guild staff, thus relinquishing Pandora’s Actor of his form. Melting back into his uniform, Pandora’s Actor sinks down to a knee as flesh races over his bones to complete his shape shifting.

Cold steam bursts from Cocytus's mandibles while the other floor guardians dissolve into gasps and whispers. Squaring his shoulders, Momonga steels his resolve as he shares a glance with Holly before stamping the butt of the guild staff against the floor.

“Enough,” Momonga takes a step forward. One by one, he looks to each of the floor guardians. “I am sure you are all aware of what this means.”

* * *

The Throne of Kings. A slab of obsidian carved with an ancient language and shaped into a seat befitting a giant. Flanking the throne rest twists of dark pyrite that gleam like slick river stones. Similar branches of dark pyrite hold in place a titanic oval tablet that backdrops the throne. From a lore card obtained upon receiving the Throne of Kings all those years ago, it was suspected that the symbol behind the throne was once one of the lost portals to the roots of the world tree.

This only furthered Ainz Ooal Gowns' pride in Nazarick. Forevermore, the Throne of Kings would stand as a testament to their might for succeeding a level eighty dungeon in one attempt. 

Pride. 

Pride is what should be pressing Momonga’s chest into a swell. He is sitting on the Throne of Kings, after all. A seat granted to him by his friends who found him the most ample to lead them into a glorious future. 

Instead? This is awful! His feet don’t even come close to touching the ground! Shame wriggles a rot into his spine. Uwah...at the very least, he has Holly sitting beside him for comparison. That has him feeling a tad better. She is shorter, after all. 

Momonga plants his elbows upon his knees as he leans forward. With the lace of his fingers, he contemplates just how to answer the question presented to him only moments ago.

_“How did this happen?!” Shalltear had squawked._

A huff of laughter edged with all the amusement of stomach cancer hums from Demiurge. “Is it not obvious to you all, truly?”

Oh no.

Holly leans into Momonga as she whispers, “Here we go.”

“Behave,” Momonga mutters under his breath. 

“Allow our Lord to answer for himself,” Albedo hisses. “No one asked for your interpretation.”

“Correct,” Demiurge responds. As casually as one would sift their hand through liquid silk, Demiurge removes his glasses, cleans them, and places them back upon the bridge of his nose. Then he grins. “Lord Ainz, if I may?”

...They really are like children. Uwah.

Nevertheless, this is..interesting. Just what is it that Demiurge believes this circumstance to be? Considering that Demiurge is fully aware of how this all came about, could the demon be devising an impromptu cover story for him? Or is it that Demiurge believes--....

Momonga bites back a groan. Yes. Of course. As expected of Demiurge, he is going to believe there to be more to this than there is. And yet...Hm.

Hm.

He very well could use this to his advantage.

Momonga exchanges a glance with Holly. With the purse of her lips, Holly gives an ever so slight nod of her head. Momonga reciprocates this action, following Holly as she lifts her hand into a thumbs up.

“Proceed,” Momonga straightens his posture. “I am admittedly curious as to how you perceive my intentions.”

“Thank you, Lord Ainz,” Demiurge approaches the stairs leading to the throne. Claiming his stage upon the fourth step, Demiurge turns to face the guardians with open arms. “It is within our Lord’s interest to challenge our perceptions.”

“Our...perceptions?” Aura scratches the top of her head.

Shalltear scoffs. “And what is _that_ supposed to mean, exactly?”

“Tch,” Demiurge clicks his tongue. “By relinquishing his immortality for humanity, Lord Ainz wishes to showcase to us that humans are more than what they seem. Humans are capable. Determined. A festering species of will, courage, and adaptability.”

“Haha! Right you are, comrade!” Momonga fights a wince off of his face as Pandora’s Actor leaps up from beside the throne. Before Momonga can object, Holly gives Pandora’s Actor the go ahead with an encouraging smile.

Curse you, Holly.

Throwing his body into a cartwheel, Pandora’s Actor rolls next to Demiurge with a click of his boot heels. “Greetings, my fellow guardians!”

“Yellow jacket man!” Aura claps her hands.

“Tiny dark elf child! Hallo!”

Demiurge rolls his tongue over his teeth. “Yes. A pleasure as always, Pandora’s Actor. Now then, perhaps you interrupted my debriefing to give us a demonstration?”

“Correct once more, my dark cavorting friend!” Pandora’s Actor snaps his hand up into a salute. 

“See?” Holly snickers as she whispers. “This ain’t so bad.”

Momonga sends Holly a dirty look as he whispers back, “No. This is far worse than I could have imagined.”

Nevertheless..

While Pandora’s Actor shifts his form to compliment Demiurge’s presentation, Momonga allows for his mind to move a few steps ahead of their testimony. This...hm. This he can work with. While far from the truth, the assumptions of why he made himself human can be used to curve the guardians' distaste for humanity into respect.

This will be important within the times to come. 

Momonga leans back into the throne. Yes. Perhaps there is in fact some merit to be gained from his recklessness.

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> _What would his mother think of him?_
> 
> Wait...what about Albedo? 😏 -rubs hands together- All in good time, all in good time... (Next chapter!) 
> 
> Stay safe out there, you guys. Please stay home and remember to take care of yourselves. 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	12. The edge of tomorrow

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse twelve  


\- The edge of tomorrow -

* * *

It has been estimated that the human body can survive approximately three weeks absent of food. Water, three to four days. Two weeks free of sleep, and that’s generous. Considering these facts as he strolls down Nazarick’s halls discussing the meeting prior with Holly, Momonga wonders, why is it that he feels exhausted? Emotionally drained. Physically he has been reduced down to a mere shuffle of his feet and he winces as a pang of hunger claws at his stomach.

Uwah. The human body is so demanding..

What time is it, anywho? Momonga digs his pocket watch out and flips it open. 

Two days. It is nearing two d-days. Something slimy, slippery and cold, shudders down Momonga’s spine. 

Two days. In one more day it will have been three days. In three days Antithesis shou--No. Antithesis _will_ return him to his rightful form. Yes. Yes, it will. Once he has reclaimed himself he can make ready to honor his conference with Emperor Jirchniv and resume with the spread of Nazarick’s ever expanding territory. 

Momonga rubs at his eyes. A yawn tickles the roof of his mouth. One more day. Just one...Momonga stretches his mouth wide in a yawn...more day--?!

“Can you not?!” Momonga swats Holly’s finger away as she tries to poke into his mouth. 

Holly laughs. “You didn’t hear a word of what I said, didja?”

...Ah. No. No, he did not. A wince takes Momonga’s face as he sighs, “My apologies. Would you care to repeat what you had said?”

“If you insist,” Holly flashes Momonga a toothy smile.

Throwing her hands behind her head, Holly gazes towards the ceiling as they continue down the hall. “It’s like I said, ya know? I think we should do something like a birthday party for the twins once _this_ ,” Momonga frowns as Holly gestures at him. “Is over. We can start with them and move on to the others from there. It can be like a...reward of sorts? Ugh, cause, ya know, a birthday is _totally_ a reward but you know them. Anyways. I think it’ll be nice! If we spin it right, it can be something they feel like they’ve earned through adjusting their attitudes towards people.”

Mm. Most excellent. Yes, now he recalls their previous discussion. A brilliant strategy. Holly’s notion will further solidify that _this_ was planned all along. 

“Indeed. It should be noted that you have my full endorsement for whenever you choose to employ this plan of action.”

Holly halts mid step. “You... you mean you don’t wanna do this with me?”

“On the contrary. It is that following tomorrow I will have next to no free time available considering my schedule.”

“You really think Antithesis is gonna wear off by the end of tomorrow?”

Momonga grits his teeth. “Yes.”

“...If you say so, big guy.”

As predicted, they resume walking with one another in silence. 

Silence. Silence, save for the clicking of his boot heels and the taps of Holly’s greaves against the polished marble flooring. At best? His thoughts are scattered. A road sign with arrows pointing in every which direction fog his mind. Meetings. Politics. Money. Love. 

…Love.

Hah.

It seems there is but another disturbance for him to work through. Momonga releases a sigh that sends his shoulders forward. Holly’s lips twitch with the invitation of a conversation as she glances towards Momonga. Damn. Unsurprisingly, she is perceptive as ever.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t have the time. Time. He always requires more time. As it were, time is a paradox. There is an abundance of it yet there seems to never be enough…

“Hey,” Holly slows her pace to a crawl. “You uh...wanna talk?”

Yes.

Momonga shakes his head. “Do not mistake me, Holly. I appreciate the offer, yet--”

_EEEEEEEEEEK!_

Alarm rushes a cold stream through Momonga’s blood as he glances over his shoulder.

_Lord Ainz!!!_

Albedo _._

...

Wait. Albedo?! Albedo! When did she get here?! Shouldn’t she be working on that paperwork he assigned her?! Did she finish early?!

She’s sprinting full tilt towards him! Arms wide open! Breasts swaying and nearly smacking her in the face--

B-Breasts. Breasts!

Momonga’s jaw slacks.

Breasts. Boobs. Or as Peroroncino once called them, gravity defying melons. 

Momonga’s fingers twitch. His jaw remains hung open. Albedo’s growing closer, now. 

She’s coming right at him. All of her boobs are coming right for him.

This is it.

This is where he dies. 

As Albedo begins to close in she lunges into the air. Momonga’s eyes widen.

**_Boobs!_ **

“Sorry, Albedo!” Holly laughs. Thrusting her hand forward as streams of blue magic pour from her fingertips, she casts, “[Wall of denial]!”

 _Thunk!_ A ripple blooms from the center of Holly’s [Wall of Denial] as Albedo crashes into it. Seemingly unphased, Albedo pouts her bottom lip and releases a sigh that fogs the arcane barrier. Upon notice of the fog, Albedo squeaks a finger against the glass surface and draws a heart. Then she flashes Momonga a rather unsettling smile, and he turns to face Holly.

Momonga gulps. “That’s four, now.”

Holly points at Albedo’s right breast. “Four,” Next, she points at Albedo’s left. “Annnd five.”

“Ah,” Momonga blinks. “Agreed.”

* * *

Shadows slink in winding tendrils across Momonga’s ceiling. Red hums from his world item still perched atop his night stand. Additionally, purple fire flickers from beside his door thanks to the maids and their ever diligent work of not only taking care of all of Nazarick but repairing his wall lantern.

The ambience is warm, rich, and welcoming. Shadows edged with tints of red and dark lavender dance over his eyes and remind him of an otherworldly ocean. 

Momonga pulls his bed sheets up to his chin. It is peaceful. Calm. Quiet.

..and yet sleep evades him. While all else falls to a still around him?

His mind does not stop.

Fortunately, he has grown accustomed to this. Being an undead for a prolonged period of time does this to one, after all. The downside to his current situation, however, is that he is still exhausted. Long forgotten are times like this, it seems. He can not recall the last night he spent wide awake yet utterly spent-- Ah. That is incorrect.

Twas the night before Yggdrasil’s servers were meant to go offline. 

Is this merely his body playing catch up?

…

No. No, that is not it.

It. 

Such a small word to encompass so much. 

Momonga grits his teeth and seethes. Is he ready to admit this to himself? Uwah, What…What is it that he believes he is going to do should Antithesis not relinquish him of his humanity, exactly? Remain human?! What choice does he have left!? 

_Momonga?_

Softer than a butterfly landing on his finger, Holly whispers, “You asleep?”

…She’s awake. 

It should be noted that Holly remained with him. Absent his request, mind you. After dinner and a discussion in analysis of the day's events she simply...remained. Just as she had the night before.

Momonga looks over to Holly and the wet gleam from her reptilian eyes cuts the dark as she peers back at him. Rather than speak, Momonga slips, forsaking his composure as he mouths to her _What am I to do?_

Holly’s nostrils flare as she looks into Momonga’s eyes. She says nothing. She says nothing, and it only serves to stretch the passing seconds. Brows knitting together, Momonga frowns and then shifts his focus back to the ceiling. He closes his eyes.

Neither of them know.

Momonga pulls his hand back in a reflexive flinch as Holly brushes her fingers against his wrist. A sharp inhale. His attention is snapped back to her in an instant. Their eyes lock.

Holly’s lips move as if they’re caught in a dream while she mouths to him, _It’s gonna be okay. I've got this. I won’t let anything happen to you._

_I promise._

Never have words unspoken sounded so beautiful.

Momonga anchors his gaze towards their hands, watching with fixed interest as they lace their fingers together. How Holly’s knuckles crease. How their skin tones compliment one another. How their thumbs cross and how Holly grips him all the tighter. 

...Her hands are so small. Delicate. Like a cherry blossom woven from silk. For this reason, it’s here and now as he squeezes her hand back that his mind is revisited with the memory of her in his arms. Her hair sifting through his fingers and the crinkle in her nose as she slept.

A shift in the bed sheets near his legs catches in his peripheral vision as Holly sneaks her tail towards him. The tip of her tail wiggles. Momonga bites back a chuckle before the clarity of realization takes him and delivers a sudden weight to his heart.

His foolishness has put her in _his_ position. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and that is a fate he does not wish for her. Only once has he put her in such a situation and even then it was only as a precaution should he have failed to bring Shalltear home.

Alas, this? By way of contrast to his confidence during those trying times he now understands himself as vulnerable. Incompetent. _Powerless._

...Could this be how she felt that day?

This...Momonga bows his head down, yet he slants his eyes in such a way that he holds Holly’s face within them. Her cheeks brighten as she smiles back. 

He does not want this for her. Without the aid of an emotional suppressor, how will she fare as she steps in to fulfill his role? 

Once again, Momonga closes his eyes. It is within his hopes that tomorrow relieves him of his humanity and that such a time does not come to pass. Yet as the seconds tick away he knows the answer. 

Perhaps his foresight on the matter is why he chooses to selfishly allow himself this weakness. Releasing a sigh through his nostrils, Momonga travels a hand down to Holly’s tail and curls his fingers around the tip as she lays it draped across his legs. 

All day. 

All day, beneath the teeth clattering in his mind, he has wanted to surrender to this moment. 

Momonga rubs his thumb in slow, massaging circles against Holly’s tail. Cheeks darkening, he keeps his attention away from her eyes as he whispers, “H-Holly, about the other n-night, I, or rather, you, err, no, that isn’t right--”

Uwah. He’s an imbecile no matter where he turns, it seems…

Needless to say, it catches him a bit off of his guard when Holly shimmies her way closer. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have too. Hah! The flush trapped in her cheeks and the shy smile that has taken her face says it all.

Yes! Momonga’s heart soars. She wants for him to hold her again!

The excitement of having her this close to him once more sends his stomach into a swoop as she molds her body to his. He adjusts accordingly, mentally berating himself for the noticeable tremble caught in his hands as he slips them around Holly’s waist. Most fortunately, she doesn’t seem to pay his anxieties any mind. Rather, she gets as close as possible and that's more than acceptable to him.

Momonga shudders as he rests his chin between Holly’s horns. It should be criminal for her to be this soft. Smell this nice. Like a warm cloud of rose petals.

This is heavenly.

..And finally, after the day's arduous series of events, Momonga’s eyelids grow heavy. Mindlessly, he twirls curls of Holly’s hair between his fingers as he teeters into sleep. 

Let whatever tomorrow brings come.

Because right now?

He’s just thankful to have someone here in his arms. 

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Hi guys! Sorry for the unannounced hiatus. If you folllow me on Tumblr you'll notice that I got a new tablet and all of my creative energy rushed towards drawing and my writing sort of fell behind. In addition, I ran into some personal matters that I need to work through so that didn't help. My apologies and thank you to those of you that still stick with me and read my stories despite my inconsistent update schedule. I appreciate you guys so much! 💛🖤❤️ 
> 
> Now for some fic talk. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Not gonna lie, we almost had a smut chapter. 😂 However, I used my special author fly swatter and kept that from happening. Not yet! I have a few others things that I want to happen before we get saucy. 😏 Now then! Will Momonga return to his undead self next chapter? What about that meeting in Baharuth with Emperor Jirchniv? Will Albedo be buried in more paperwork? How about the twins? Pandora and Holly? The rest of the floor guardians?! 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	13. Death of a salesman

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse thirteen  


\- Death of a salesman -

* * *

Suzuki Satoru. 

A man that lived his life day in and day out as a slave to the demands of society. His hobbies included logging in to Yggdrasil, enjoying lunch outside of his apartment when he could afford to do so, and spending time with his online friends.

He was a simple man. Those closest to him would describe him as considerate, non-partisan, and nostalgic.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Suzuki Satoru was a simple man, after all.

...And it should be known that simple men do not make for good leaders. Rulers. Kings. Lords. Or gods.

Suzuki Satoru was ordinary; Never extraordinary.

Therefore he could no longer be allowed to exist. He had to be put to rest.

Momonga keeps his hands thread through Holly’s hair, holding her that much closer as the man he believed to have separated himself from reaches through to ask him a single question.

Tell me, do the dead ever truly depart?

Momonga closes his eyes as the clock hands upon his wall continue to tick away. Three days. Three days and one minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Four minutes. Five. _Six. Seven._

...How could he have allowed this to happen.

Tighter. He holds Holly all the tighter as his breathing hitches.

In response to the arms caged around her, Holly just nods her head and wiggles a leg between Momonga’s. He offers no resistance. No. Instead, he aids her in eliminating the space between them as he cements himself to her. 

His arms crossed over her back. Fingers tangled in her curls. Legs interlaced. Chest to chest with the hint of a height advantage on his side so that he may bury his face between her horns. 

She knows. And perhaps, she knew all along that this would be the outcome. It would not be the arms of the undead king of Nazarick that she would wake up in. 

Momonga smashes his face into the space between Holly’s horns as he seethes.

No. It would be Suzuki Satoru. A simple man. Nothing more and everything less.

“Hey,” Holly coos. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Silence.

“...Momonga?” Holly tries again.

Once more, she’s met with silence.

The pendulum drooping from his wall clock sways back and forth as the minutes pass.

Twenty three. Twenty four. _Twenty five. Twenty six._

“....Big guy?” 

…

“I have a meeting with Emperor Jircniv this evening.” Is all he can muster up the courage to say.

The thick fan of Holly’s eyelashes tickle his throat as she blinks and he can already predict her answer. 

Holly’s shoulders tighten as she whispers back, “I have a meeting with Jerky this evening.”

As expected. And yet, it still hit him so hard in the chest that he can not help but grit his teeth. 

This is not her responsibility. 

...The scope of his inadequacies.

They are going to come crashing over her. 

For this reason, Momonga positions a hand on Holly’s shoulder and gently pushes her back so that he can look at her face. There’s a pause as he studies her. How her features soften the longer he stares and how her marquise pupils dilate. 

“No,” Momonga delivers his answer into Holly’s eyes. “No. You will send Pandora’s Actor in my stead.”

“No?” Holly’s expression sharpens with the crinkle of her nose as she scoffs, “Whaddya mean no?”

“There was no hidden agenda behind my words. The answer is no, Holly. No.”

A rainbow of emotions flash over Holly’s face. Anger knit between her brows. Frustration in her frown. Confusion spiking her blood and flushing her cheeks. And for a moment, the calm of acceptance in her eyes.

Then it’s pain that takes her. “Why don’t you trust me? Why?”

A fist squeezes Momonga’s heart at that. “This is not about trust. Do not twist my words.”

“It’s just one meeting, though?!”

“It rarely ever is just one meeting,” Momonga mutters. “This need not concern you. Understand that my responsibilities are not in turn yours. Therefore, I will delegate accordin--”

“Then send me,” Holly pleads. “Delegate accordingly and send me.”

“As of late you have been able to convince me to side with you,” Momonga’s expression softens. “But I will not budge on this.”

“What’s the big deal? What’s the difference in sending me over Pandora?”

“I could propose to you the same question.”

Holly’s chest rumbles as if she has a storm cloud caught inside of her. “If you send me then it breaks the cycle of everyone always expecting you to do everything. C’mon. You know I’m good for it. I mean,” Holly’s lips twitch with a frown and she glances away. “Haven’t I proven that to you lately?”

A sharp inhale. Momonga closes his eyes. How many times does she plan on striking at his heart today?

“This has nothing to do with your value. By way of contrast, this has everything--”

“Of course it has to do with my value! If you trusted me, this wouldn’t--”

Momonga’s eyes fly open as he barks, “Holly! Enough!”

The color from Holly’s face drains. With a stutter on her breath she shakes her head and pulls away from Momonga, or she would, if not for him reaching up to cup her face.

Momonga’s voice cracks as she flinches. “It is because of your value that I do not wish to put this burden upon you. Why can’t you see that?” Again, his voice slips. “I have never doubted you.”

Holly’s lip quivers. “I don’t understand.”

“Then allow me to explain,” Momonga continues to cup Holly’s face. “Even with the benefits gifted to me as an undead ruling Nazarick has been the most difficult task I have ever been put up against. Hah! Half of the time? To be quite frank with you, I do not know what it is that I am supposed to be attempting to accomplish.”

Momonga slides a hand up Holly’s cheek and sifts his fingers through her hair. “I do not wish to put that stress upon you. It is my fear that should you take upon this mantle then it will eat away at the life you possess as it was starved to do so with me.”

“But that’s the thing. You’re not dead anymore,” Holly whispers. “So the same could be said to you.”

Holly’s eyelids droop as she reaches a hand up to Momonga’s cheek. “How about this. Don’t let me do this for you. Let me do this _with_ you. Don’t send Pandora. Send me. Let go of some of those reins for a change and let me in.”

Warmth floods into Momonga’s face and he glances away. She is entirely too charming for her own good. A formidable opponent in this game of semantics between them. Uwah. Leave it to Holly to pull a stunt like this when he’s already vulnerable and down on his luck..

Momonga closes his eyes. He’s going to tell her no. No, Holly. The answer is no. Why can she not see that this is in her best interest? She is merely acting on impulse and fails to realize--?!

_Roses._

His heart leaps up into his throat and all he can smell is the creamy, rich velvet whisper of roses as Holly folds a kiss to his lips.

Except for his hands that tremble upon her face, Momonga completely stills. His mind blanks. Everything he has is entirely too focused on how her breath feels on his tongue as she slants her lips over his and deepens their embrace. 

A groan that he doesn’t care to shelter from her hums from his chest. She tastes like the bathhouse. The color red. And despite the fact that she’s now pushing him down into the sheets she makes him truly believe that he’s floating. 

Momonga’s eyelids flutter. Another moan catches in his throat and he rows his thumbs into her cheeks while she crawls on top of him. Chills race through him and sweep over his arms. The warmth she presents is nothing short of heaven.

Holly tunnels her fingers through Momonga’s hair. Heat spikes his blood at the sensation of her nails combing over his scalp. Her tail and how it’s petting his inner thigh. Her hair and how the ringlets spill around him. He’s hyper aware of it all and the high glazing his mind is tinted with stars.

Just before she pulls away, Holly draws Momonga’s bottom lip into her mouth and traces him with her tongue. Shivers of desire zip to the space between his thighs and leave him impossibly warm. Her tongue is so hot and wet…

Little exasperated breaths fall from the both of them as Holly lifts up and away from Momonga, thus breaking their embrace. In turn, Momonga slides his hands from Holly’s face, down her neck, and he maps out her curves as he travels lower until he fits his palms in the dip of her waist. 

Momonga stares at Holly as the fog in his head keeps him silly and dizzy from the experience. 

She kissed him. S-she kissed him.

That… that was incredible.

Momonga continues to stare at Holly. There’s a flush trapped in her cheeks as she gazes down at him.

A shudder tickles at the base of Momonga’s spine. His heart beats faster.

Would she kiss him again?

…

...Could he kiss her?

Momonga steadies himself with the fill of his lungs. Holly rises and falls with his chest as he releases his exhale. The seconds stretch as he gives himself the time he needs to calm his excitement. Keep in mind that it is exceedingly difficult to think straight with an erection and a beautiful woman quite literally on top of him. 

Holly leans over Momonga once again. The spirals of her hair tickle his face as she looks him right in the eyes and states, “I have a meeting with Jerky this evening.”

Momonga narrows his eyes. There’s a husk of gruffness within the staccato trapped to the sigh he frees in response. A hollow pang strikes his heart and a sudden weight deadens his arms. Hands sliding from Holly’s waist, they fall to his sides and hit the bed sheets. Momonga looks away from her and towards the wall.

“...That was low, Holly.” Momonga mutters. “If it was your intention to manipulate me to get what you want--”

“Stop it,” Holly lurches forward and plants her palms on either side of Momonga’s head. “I wasn’t tryin’ to manipulate you. Believe me, I promise, I-I just wanted to kiss you.”

A blush creeps up onto Holly’s cheeks and she looks away. “...Okay so I kinda was totally tryin’ to manipulate you but I also just really wanted to kiss you.”

Momonga’s eyes widen. “I-I, I, well, I suppose that’s fair?”

Holly doesn’t look at him. However, her cheeks continue to brighten and there's the hint of a rather adorable smile towing at her lips.

For that very reason, Momonga’s pulse starts to race. With the beat of his heart trapped between his ears, he rasps, “D-Do you want to kiss me again?”

Holly’s lips break open with a giggle. She still refuses look at him.

“I dunno. Do you want me to kiss you again?”

“Yes,” Momonga blurts out. Then he chuckles, “More than anything.”

Holly’s eyes are sparkling. They might as well have the entirety of Nazarick’s treasury trapped inside of them while that adoring smile consumes her face. Tunneling her fingers through his hair, she brings her attention back to him, and Momonga glides his hands once more up to the delicate curve of her waist.

Momonga closes his eyes and wets his lips. His heart flutters with anticipation.

…

Silence.

...Momonga peeks an eye open to see Holly only a few inches away from him. Staring at him.

A frown takes his face. Err, well. This is embarrassing. Perhaps he failed to pick up on a social que? He.. he wouldn’t put it past himself to--

“Meet me halfway,” Holly whispers.

… Ah.

Momonga relaxes his shoulders. With the nod of his head, he lifts himself up and fuses his lips to hers.

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> ....They weren't supposed to kiss this chapter but that obviously got derailed. Bastards.


	14. When in Rome

◐•.¸¸.•𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎•.¸¸.•◑

Verse fourteen  


\- When in Rome -

* * *

The streets of Arwinter glisten against the sunlight as if they were an exposed frost cavern cracked open like a pomegranate from Niflheim. Stained glass windows that stretch from floor to ceiling adorn many of the noble estates whose pinched rooftops tickle the clouds. 

The steady drum of marching echoes through the city. 

Skeletons decorated in golden armor with swords as tall as men line the steps leading up to Emperor Jircniv’s palace. Flags embroidered with the holy regalia of Baharuth in a single clap transform to black with a serpent in the shape of an infinity symbol stitched into their fabrics. 

From atop the shoulders of four death knights rests a palanquin draped in crushed red, black, and gold velvet. Purple crystals clink against their silver strands strung from the crown of the palanquin as it’s carried to the palace. 

Peeking through the curtain that keeps the palanquin sheltered from the city, Holly can’t help but huff a laugh. Two shadows slink along the ground as a pair of dragons overhead circle the palace in wait. As per usual, it’s a bit much, but… it’s what the big guy wanted.

_“The twins and Demiurge?” Holly spoke around the comb in her mouth as she brought her hair back up into a ponytail. “Are you sure?”_

_“Yes. In addition, I will have agents sprinkled throughout the city. The display of power will speak for you as a prelude to your arrival. Emperor Jircniv will continue to understand that Nazarick is a force that far exceeds his own.”_

_Holly grumbled and set her comb down. The scrunchy she had been attempting to tie her hair back with snapped. Two steps later Momonga was behind her with a new one between his teeth as he aided in gathering up her hair._

_Holly looked up and over her shoulder towards Momonga. “I didn’t know you knew how to do hair?”_

_“I don’t,” Momonga remarked. “However, I have seen you do this plenty of times.”_

_A smile dawned over Holly’s face. Closing her eyes, she leaned back into him as he combed his fingers through her hair. Despite the return of his more adolescent voice, never before had Momonga sounded so well cultured and aristocratic as he breathed, “Jircniv will attempt to manipulate you. He will see you as my weakness. For this reason you must exercise caution and choose your words wisely.”_

_“Why is he gonna try to manipulate me?”_

_“Politics,” Momonga grunted. The grip on Holly’s hair tightened. “Be forewarned. He may seek your hand in marriage in an attempt to secure himself a foothold within Nazarick.”_

_“Jerky can go and kick rocks.”_

_“Indeed,” Momonga chuckled. “Moving forward, I would ask--?!”_

_SNAP!_

_Holly’s eyes popped open and Momonga’s widened as the scrunchy snapped and shot across the room._

_“Ah,” Momonga pursed his lips. “Most unfortunate.”_

The curtain veiling the palanquin flutters shut.

Holly sits back into her seat and runs her fingers through her hair. A smile soon follows. They never did get it into a ponytail..

Anyways. 

Laying her tail in her lap, Holly leans forward and laces her fingers together. “So. What’s his game?”

Demiurge blinks a few times and the clear caps encasing his eyes retract. Despite the darkness sheltering them from the outside world, the reds of his amphibian eyes glisten against the shadows. 

Leaning forward in mirror of Holly’s posture, Demiurge says, “My speculation is as such. My Lady, I believe the Emperor to be keeping close observation on Nazarick in an attempt to strengthen a relationship he believes to have been established. Furthermore, it’s to my understanding that he’s seeking to take advantage of said relationship.”

“Okay?” Holly lifts a brow. “Does he want money or something? I mean, from the looks of this place it doesn’t exactly seem like he’s strapped for cash.”

“Not necessarily,” Demiurge hums. “Forgive me, but may I ask if you’re aware of how the Emperor came into power?”

“Yeah. Didn’t he kill his way up?”

“Indeed. For that very reason, I trust his past to be indicative of his future.”

Holly’s face tightens and she faces the floor as she digests Demiurge’s words. Outside, the steady marching of the death knights and their brigade of undead soldiers fills the air.

Just what is Jerky up too?

…

And then realization lights up her face.

“...He’s looking to expand his territory,” Holly whispers to herself. After a few more seconds her eyes meet Demiurge’s. “Where?”

“That, My Lady,” Sunlight floods into the palanquin as Demiurge pulls back the curtain and reveals the palace entrance. “That’s what I believe we’re going to learn today.”

* * *

Songbirds with sherbet undertones hop and chirp in their ivory cages. Freshly watered vines with blooms of wisteria shimmer from the fluted pillars that line the balcony. Sitting atop a red and gold area rug rests a glass table overflowing with fruits, meats, and wines from across Baharuth.

A roasted boar's head stuffed with apples. A platter of sliced cheese. Grapes spilling over the lip of the table. A candy dish filled with chocolate truffles dusted in powdered sugar. Wine bottles sweating in buckets of ice.

A harem of women with caramel skin swathed in oil glisten as they touch, kiss, and sigh in a collection of throw pillows to the left of Emperor Jirchniv’s chaise lounge. By way of contrast to the sheer bedlah dresses ornamenting the women, Emperor Jircniv lies poised on his lounge and cloaked in his traditional layered scholarly robes.

With a wave of his hand, Emperor Jircniv dismisses the shirtless men that have been shading him with their leafy fan palms. Rolling the stem of his wine glass, Jircniv turns his attention to Holly as she ignores the bowl of oven blistered figs drizzled with toffee butter being offered to her by one of his nobles.

Demiurge’s rows of serrated fangs glint with the edge of a smile as he glances between Jircniv and the figs. “A lovely sampling. Aromatic, might I add. Tell me, do you have them imported or are they cultivated indigenously?”

“You would be pleased to know that they are grown domestically. Yet considering that they are out of season, the helping before you was bought from abroad this morning, ” Jircniv sets his wine glass down. “However it seems I was misinformed. My apologies to our lady of the hour. I was under the impression that she favored sweets.”

“You’re trying to buy me with sweet stuff?” Holly smirks. “Really?”

Jircniv chuckles. “I was unaware that my intentions were so thinly veiled.” 

Holly scoffs a laugh. Her armor scrapes against itself as she stands and walks over to the nearest birdcage. In response to her presence, the many birds of amber red with pink and orange bellies hop, chirp, tweet and sing with a bit more vibrancy. 

Holly gazes upon the collection of songbirds. “Why do you keep them in cages?”

“Oh?” Jircniv’s robes dust the floor around him as he joins Holly’s side. “These are Coral Choir Kinglets. Similarly to the figs, they were purchased from outside of Baharuth as they do not nest within our climate.”

“Do you like them?” Jircniv glides a finger down one of the ivory wires of the birdcage. 

Holly doesn’t respond and allows for the singing of the birds to fill in the silence.

A smile haunts Jircniv’s voice as he steps closer. “I would give them to you.”

“Yeah?” Holly pipes up. She then travels a hand over to the door. “You’d let me have them?”

“Yes. They are yours should you so wish them to be,” Jirchniv touches Holly’s wrist. “Among many other--...”

From behind them Demiurge chuckles as Holly throws the door open. In a flurry of chirps, tweets, and feathers the Coral Choir Kinglets rush out of the birdcage. Holly then marches down the balcony and repeats this process, pulling open all the birdcage doors and releasing the Kinglets.

Holly glares into Jircniv’s eyes as she frees the last of the songbirds. “What do you want from me?”

“My mother had always been fond of those,” Jircniv watches as the Kinglets disappear into the setting sun. “Remarkable. Do you know how refreshing it is to do business with a woman that knows what she wants?”

“No,” Holly smirks as she travels her eyes over Jircniv. “Can’t imagine.”

“Then allow me to cut the formalities,” Jircniv extends a hand over his balcony. His robes pool over his arm as he points to the northern mountains. “Put simply, I would ask that Ainz Ooal Gown bring an end to the Dragon kingdom. Considering a man of his power, I do not see this as too far of a favor to request? What was the spell he used, again? Oh, yes. Iä Shub-Niggurath, wasn’t it?”

Holly’s gauntlets creak as she grips the balconies banister. 

Jircniv smiles as he curls his fingers into a fist. “The time to strike is now as both Beastmen and Draudallion grow weary as winter approaches. This will be mutually advantageous to both Baharuth and Nazarick under our current treaty, as it stands. 

“The answer is no,” Holly says straight away. “No. Like you just said, winter is coming and if they don’t kill each other off then the frost will finish up the job. There’s no need to involve us.”

Holly’s tail whips around behind her as she glares at Jircniv. “There’s no need to involve Ainz.”

“Tell me something,” Jircniv lifts a hand up and adjusts the turquoise crystal dangling from his ear lobe. “You are second in command to Nazarick, yes?”

Holly’s teeth grit into a sneer. Jirchniv sighs as he continues, “Perhaps you could schedule Ainz Ooal Gown and I a time to discuss this matter? I understand him to be a busy man and thus is why he sent you in his stead today. Unfortunately, this is clearly over your head--”

“In the absence of Lord Ainz it should be noted that Lady Holly’s words carry the weight of Nazarick and nothing less,” The spiked head of Demiurge’s tail hovers around Holly in an arc as he takes his place behind her. “Surely you do not take issue with this fact? I would hate for there to be a problem, after all.”

“Of course not. My only desire is to keep all parties involved on the same page so as to not incite discord. Truthfully, it would be a shame for both Lord and Lady of Nazarick to be at odds with one another,” Jircniv sighs once again as he gestures for one of his servants to come and fan him. “At least, that’s how it’s been with my experiences in these types of situations.”

Jircniv shrugs a shoulder as he’s handed a glass of red wine. “But what do I know?”

The heat radiating from Demiurge displaces the air into a hint of steam above Holly’s armor. A croaked growl that he swallows into a hum catches in his throat. Releasing his breath through his nostrils, Demiurge declines the drink being offered to him from one of Jircniv’s servants.

Holly accepts hers. However, she chooses to stare at her reflection purling in the red wine before her rather than take a sip. 

...Momonga was right. Jerky is a manipulative bastard. A manipulative bastard that’s just put her between a rock and a hard place.

She can’t let Momonga pull another stunt with [Iä Shub-Niggurath] like last time. In all fairness, it’s not like he can right now, but…

No. Not again. We’re not getting a repeat of what happened at the Katze Plains. Momonga’s power isn’t a means to an end. He’s not a tool.

...and if she can help it? She’s not gonna let him kill again. Not like _that_ , at least. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like Momonga’s quite come to terms with what he did and it’s Holly’s hopes that he continues to be remain ignorant.

The weight that that puts on your soul…

Holly’s tail curls around her ankle.

She asked him what humanity meant to him. And now? She hopes to protect him from that very question.

..and the answer.

Holly lifts the glass of wine to her lips and takes a sip. 

“So,” She times her next sip so that she takes it with the Emperor. “Does it have to be Ainz?”

“Taking into account that there is no other with power comparable to him?” Jircniv chuckles. “While I am aware of the strength that rests within your people I remain confident in understanding that Ainz Ooal Gown claims the title Sorcerer King for a reason.”

“You think you know so much sitting up here in your pretty palace,” Holly sets her wine glass down upon the lip of the balcony. “But tell me somethin’. Your shipyards. What color was that fire?”

Jircniv aerates his wine. “Reports dictate that the fire was green. However, any and all first hand witnesses have either recanted their statements or have admitted to have been under the influence when they--....”

Jircniv falls into a pause as Holly snaps her fingers and commands an emerald flame to tickle over her thumb.

Silence.

“...So I see. There are in fact powers that rival the Sorcerer King.” 

Holly takes a step towards Jircniv and jabs her thumb into her breastplate. “I will take down the Dragon kingdom. Ainz doesn’t need to be bothered with this. You and I both know it’s beneath him and ain't worth his time.”

“So long as Draudillon Oriculus is brought to her knees? Well. Who am I to complain when an ally accepts my invitation to war,” Jircniv reaches a hand towards Holly. “Given the context, might I find it safe to assume that this agreement between us is off the record?”

A thick, meaty claw swallows Jircniv’s hand in response as Demiurge states, “We will be in contact.”

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Wait, this story actually has a plot that I've been building towards? 
> 
> And this chapter is why I love Fan fiction! Personally, I _hate_ how canonically Jircniv rolls belly up and becomes a Vassal state with little to no resistance. Seriously. Jircniv ends up going bald and develops a stress ulcer in the light novels and yeahhh I'm gonna take him in a different direction.


End file.
